Title: The Meeting (4/4)
A Nameless Traveler (ANT-chan)
General/PG-13 (for mild violence, mild language, and minor suggestive themes.)
Part-time assassin, part-time bodyguard, full-time cold bastard, Sin, has been hired by the local crime lords to terminate his once-employer, Nira Azard – a well-known and powerful collector and merchant with a fortress-like mansion. Holding no ties of loyalty, Sin has no problem with this. He does, however, have a problem with his assigned partner. Meet Draca. He's an up-and-coming Master Thief and Spy who has never failed a job yet. He's cocky, reckless, charming, clever, and everything that seems to grate at Sin's nerves. Will the job be completed? Or will they kill each other first?
Not So Legal Disclaimer:
These characters are mine. This plot is mine. Draca's song, however, is not. The song "Sora" belongs to Yohko Kanno!
Late summer of 2430 A.S.
Sin – 430 years; Draca – 75 years

The Meeting - Final Part.

Nira Azard knew something was wrong the instant he saw a flash of blue light from beneath his study door and heard the walls creak softly. So they'd sent him at last. A shame. He had hoped that his preliminary traps would have tired the man out enough for the mythril to stop him. 'Ah, well,' he thought tiredly, 'it is impossible to outrun one's fate after all.'

You see, Nira Azard was not a stupid man by any means. A little paranoid, certainly, but it had protected him on numerous occasions in the past. He had known from the very moment he had first put the damned man on his payroll that he was going to be the one to cause him trouble. The man was deadly, absolutely unstoppable, and to Azard's eternal chagrin – held absolutely no loyalty to his employers whatsoever after completing his assigned task. Azard had attempted to change that, offering the man a permanent occupation as his bodyguard on several occasions. But he simply would have none of it.

And now he was back – for more than a job this time.

The polished door opened slowly, casually – as it had been years ago when the man was still his bodyguard. It was like an image from the past as the man stood tall in the doorway. He still looked as he had back then, though nearly three decades had passed since Azard had seen him. Azard himself had long since left his prime – his hair was gray, his body weakened by age. But Sin still remained the same. He always would. That was the kind of cursed being he was.

Azard knew exactly what the man was: knew the horrifying nature of the man's origins; knew the sins upon the man's shoulders. A curse upon the world of Viranus, this man was. Despite that, Azard respected him no less. He'd saved his life on numerous occasions. He was clever, smart, knowledgeable in multiple subjects – just like Azard, himself.

Unfortunately, it was time for his life to end at the hands of this man. It didn't surprise him, not in the least.

What did surprise him, however, was to see the tall blond man standing just behind Sin. 'A partner, Sin? That's not like you at all…' He had long since learned to never pair Sin up with anyone when there was a job. The partner usually ended up dying mysteriously before the mission was over. What had changed…?

Sin stepped over the threshold, the other following slowly after him. The blond's feral face was drawn in amused contemplation as he moved about the room with the grace and elegance of a great cat. His crimson, cat-like eyes narrowed appreciatively upon seeing one of his valuable trinkets, which sat on a nearby shelf. His lips quirked into a grin, revealing pearly fangs.

'A…Vampyre…' Ironic. Two cursed beings, working together towards his demise.

"Azard." He glanced back to the honey-skinned assassin, who was standing before his desk. His face was impassive, a habit of Sin's, but his eyes were almost… apologetic. So the man could show remorse after all.

"Sin. It's been a while." Sin merely nodded back at him.

The room went silent. They stared at one another. Any other person would perhaps be panicking in this situation, but not him. His mind was calm. He was… strangely at peace with this. There was nothing he could do in this situation. He accepted long ago that this man would probably be the one to kill him. He'd made every precaution against it as well, but one could easily where that got him.

The time was now. He nodded to Sin, and gave a wry grin. A final farewell. He closed his eyes. There was a quick metallic sound of a blade slicing through air.

'You win this one, Sin.'

And he knew no more.

The body of Nira Azard fell away from view, a single, clean slice detaching the man's head from his body. A splash of blood, a dull thump as the appendage hit the floor. Draca watched the procession of events from across the room, a low whistle of appreciation leaving his lips. The man was fast, he'd give him that. It was over in the mere blink of an eye.

It wasn't very exciting, though. He sighed. "I had hoped he'd actually put up a fight… or at least beg for his life or someth-"

"Nira Azard did not beg. Ever." The enraged hiss startled him. Sin was glaring at him, a quite rage in his eyes. Draca was quick to push aside his confusion on the man's reaction. He smirked, rather, excited that the assassin may have just been provoked into a fight with him.

The silence became thick with an icy rage from the assassin and an insatiable bloodlust from the thief. His blood began to boil in anticipation, in near fear. Would the fight be challenging? Would he actually be injured this time? Would he win?

It had been so long… too long since he'd experience the rush of battle.

All tension stopped, as Sin's lips twitched into a frown and he shook his head. Without a word he retrieved the severed head of Nira Azard – proof of his success – from behind the desk. "I've got much more important things to attend to," he dismissed with that same apathetic tone.

"What…!" The man was leaving now, exiting the room almost nonchalantly. "Hey! Get back here, you bastard!" Draca moved to the threshold to catch up with him – challenge him. But there was no one there. The assassin was gone. Without a rustle of cloth or footfall, Sin had disappeared.

"D-damn… how…?" Draca reached out with his shadows, running a quick search of the mansion and grounds where he stood. A few servants, guards… but no assassin. 'A Traveler's Gem,' he realized. It had to be.

That was certainly unexpected. 'Ah…well…' He pushed the wave of disappointment away with a wicked grin. 'That bastard's not the only one who has other… obligations.'

"Now," he murmured as he, too, strode from the study. "If I had vast amounts of priceless treasures, where would I hide them…?" His voice dimmed as he moved further down the hall. But his dark laughter traveled back to the bloodstained room, where only the body of Nira Azard could hear him.

A song drifted back from the hall. A soft, mystical tune sung in a dark, rich baritone.

.:Win dain a lotica

En val tu ri

Si lo ta

Fin dein a loluca

En dragu a sei lain

Vi fa-ru les shutai am

En riga-lint…:.

The flowing notes echoed off the bookcases and high ceiling. Echoing… echoing…

And the shadows quivered, as if laughing in glee.

.:Win chent a lotica

En val tu ri


Fin dein a loluca

Si Katigura neuver:.

The flames roared and jumped like the very fires of Hell, licking at the wooden form of the old building, melting away the clay used for the walls. People were panicking in the streets, running past like headless chickens, searching for something – anything – to douse the fire. The midnight moon in the sky was nearly blotted out by the black smoke. The air was thick and muggy, and smelled overwhelmingly of ash.

Through the great crowd a single man pushed his way against the hurried flow of people, away from the burning structure. He was dressed all in black, the fresh bloodstains on his clothes hidden from sight in the smoky gloom. The leather pouch strung to his belt was heavy and sung with the clinking of coins. There was a trace of a satisfied smirk about his shadowed features.

'Rot in Hell, idiotic crime lords.'

Well… he had said he'd kill them for their insolence…no?

.:Floreria for chesti

Si entina…:.


Fountina Blu Cent

De cravi esca letismo…:.

The bodies of the dead were piled atop one another in a preverbal mountain in the sweeping courtyards of the now-deceased Nira Azard. The shadows were moving of their own accord, roving over the flesh of the dead in dark tendrils. They devoured flesh and blood – leaving only gleaming bone behind. Atop this mountain of death sat a man. A man clad in a long black coat – from the ends of which the shadows were spewing forth – with pale as the moon skin and short golden hair. There was a wide, murderous, and fanged grin on his lips as he sang out his song to the night sky, the bloodied skull held between his equally bloody fingers grinning back at him in its morbid horror.

The night was grand, the treasures glittering, and the blood plentiful.


De quantian

La finde reve:.

.:Win dain a lotica

En vai tu ri

Si lo ta:.

That night these two men, the thief and the assassin, went their separate ways. The assassin heading east for the great sea; the thief into shadows for parts unknown at blinding speeds. These two men, different in seemingly every way, left without physical ailment from this encounter.

But this meeting would not leave their minds unscathed. Each held enough mysteries to keep the other intrigued and wondering…

The paths of two people cross, often unknowingly, in life. In the market, by happenstance mention, or even by simply passing one another on the street – souls meet, time and time again. The significance of each meeting is to be held for all time.

However, for these two, Fate is not satisfied with letting their souls meet at only one crossroad.

.:Fin dein a loluca

En dragu a sei lain

Vi fa-ru les shutai am

En riga-lint…:.

"Meeting for the First Time is a Blessing..."

Walk on, Traveler of Worlds.

This is the end of our little tale. But this Shadows and Seraphim series is FAR from over.

Like it? Don't like it? Have constructive criticism? Found a typo? Let me know!

Thanks for reading! See you next time! ^ ^