Doranelle. The beautiful coastline city, with its silvery skyscrapers stretching upwards, all together looking like arms reaching for the stars. It was a particularly cloudy day, with a gentle mist sweeping around the city, giving it a mysterious aspect. There was a gentle fall breeze, as could be expected at this time of year.
Dorian inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh air. It smelled of sharp city air and the slightest tinge of salt water, due to the raging oceans that slapped the bluff beaches just miles away. This was where he belonged, in a brisk, busy city, not cooped up in some mansion in the suburbs of Rifthold, the capital of Adarlan, where he lived. His older brother Roland came up behind him, slapping him on the shoulder. "My, my, brother, you've surely gotten into the spirit." He chuckled, in a low, well-articulated voice. "Christ was it hard to haul your ass all the way across the ocean from home." Dorian jumped out of his fog. "Shut up," Dorian retorted, rather quiet for his liking. Dorian clutched his brown leather jacket tighter around his torso as a sharp gust of wind cut through the serene air. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Roland sighed. "Yeah, I guess." Dorian shrugged, not wanting to admit his wonder. "Wendlyn, ah the good old. Came here with my friends after I graduated high school." Roland said. "Pity mam said you couldn't go. Good thing I'm around. You wouldn't be anywhere without me." Roland chuckled again. Suddenly aware of the temperature, and the humid air creeping into his bones, Dorian clutched his leather jacket tighter around him.
"I'm freezing," Dorian shuddered. "It's getting a bit late," Roland agreed, checking his watch. "It's only seven thirty. Let's go back to the hotel and have dinner. I'm starving."
As the Havilliard boys began the trek across the city taking a series of subways and buses and streetcars, a beautiful young woman with silver hair and the palest skin, and stunning turquoise eyes rimmed with a vibrant gold, sprang around town. She wore all black, her hair braided back. She had a cunning look in her eyes as she entered a small apartment, opening the door only part way before slithering through. Branded in gold letters on the door was the letters AK in an elegant font. She came up and peered through the window at the two young men crossing the road. A sly smile came upon her face for half a second before a deep voice called her away.
As Dorian crossed the busy road, he couldn't help the feeling of being watched. He spun around, and in one of the thin houses, he could've sworn he saw a curtain sweeping, like someone had been looking out the window then changed their mind. He pushed it away. Normal people look through windows. Normal people have curtains. It is a city.
But haunting him all the way to the hotel was the small sensation, tickling the back of his mind telling him that behind that curtain was someone lethal. Someone who wasn't all smiles. Someone dangerous.