He was watching her, Xayah could feel his eyes on her, almost as if his gaze were solid. She turned abruptly, amber eyes scanning the crowded market but in the evening sun she couldn't spot him. Remarkable, considering that the fool usually glowed like the sun. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she marched on. She would lose him eventually. Or so she thought...

Sometimes it seems like it'd be easier to give up.

She said she'd marry him. After twenty four hours. One-shot.

The Vastaya found himself surrounded by the multitude, several human women among them asking for his name and story. However, the dancer's cerulean gaze surveyed into the distance, his performance in honor of the one which he graced with a smirk aimed in her direction. A smile that was definitely, not reciprocated.

The flames of the Phoenix fuel the passion of it's being, the very essence of magic and life found within the truth of it's spirit. If that flame is lost, the very thing that ignites it's soul, then what does it have left? The rise and fall of the Phoenix is a tragic tale, that begins with fire, and ends with ashes.

What happens when an assassin from the Vastayan Rebellion meets a handsome, charming, and very silly Vastaya? Story about Xayah and Rakan's first meeting and onwards.