Scarlet Shadows
© Kaz, 2003
Chapter Two – Deyja
At around half past seven in the morning, Arica heard thundering steps from the staircase as she continued to cook their breakfast, and smiled at the sound she was hearing. She guessed that it must be Tahiri, the youngest among the three young women she considered her nieces, running late for the morning meal, as usual. Danni, who was reading that day's newspaper in silence, put the parchment down and averted her gaze on the flight of stairs just a short distance away from the dining room; Nadine, who was helping herself to a glass of water, stopped what she was doing, too.
"I'm so sorry!" Tahiri apologized as she scooted into the doorway of their small but spacious dining hall, bowing ruefully as she said so. As usual, she wasn't wearing her slippers or shoes, as she had told them how much she hated footwear, and how they were made to keep delicate toes in anguish and misery. "I was exhausted from going through the vents last night. It's not an easy job, you know, being the vent-climber. It actually sucks."
Sitting back down across her, Nadine flashed a loopsided grin. "You're the one who likes to go around with bare feet, Tahiri. So live with it." She then leaned back against her chair, amusement playing in her features, although there was this certain gleam in her brown eyes that did not seem to go along with the expression of happiness on the rest of her face.
The youngest woman laughed as she lifted her plate and examined her face through her reflection. She had obviously forgotten to drop by the big mirror by the bathroom on the second floor in her hurry. "That's why I'm not requesting for another job, because I'm sure you will all tell me that I'm the one suited for it, robbing me of my freedom of choice," she commented, before she put down the plate and waited for the woman they considered their aunt to bring in the food.
Arica laughed heartily as she put two large plates of food in the middle of the table, Danni standing up to get the rest without being told. "Well, if you want another job," the older woman began with a smirk, pausing to meet Tahiri's eyes which were the color of emeralds, like her own, "you'll have to learn to work with shoes. We're not robbing you of your freedom of choice, Tahiri. It's the vents, or the shoes. Which one would you go for?"
"The vents." She sounded defeated.
"Typical thing for Tahiri I'd rather get swooshed than wear those shoes' Veila to choose," Danni joked from her seat, her green eyes glittering playfully before one eyelid dropped to a wink. She then took one of the plates and helped a handful of the food in it into her plate, ignoring the younger woman's threat of smacking her on the head if she says it again which came in an equally kittenish manner.
The meal went on with a cheery atmosphere, the women exchanging jokes and witty comments as they stuffed themselves with the food Arica had kindly prepared for them. However, the club owner noticed that there was something wrong with Nadine. While she laughed whenever a gag was sang out, there was this expression on her pale features that made her look as if she was silently debating on whether she would divulge the secret she was keeping or not.
And that was something Arica could not possibly allow to pass. "Nadine? What's wrong?"
Immediately, the young woman flinched, her chocolate-colored eyes looking at the empty plate that was before her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "N-nothing," she stuttered in reply as she fidgeted with her spoon, before averting her eyes to look at the three ladies who sat around her. "Nothing. I'm just stressed out with last night."
Their superior raised a red-gold eyebrow. "You're a terrible liar, Nadine," she stated sternly, obviously not convinced by the eighteen-year-old's answer. She then leaned back against her wooden chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest in an authoritative fashion, her eyes staring at the courtesan-assassin intently. "I'm waiting for your answer. Your real answer."
She looked at her comrades for help, but they were both as concerned as Arica was. Sighing in realization that there was nothing she could do to make them stop bothering her, she decided to tell them the truth. "I don't know why this is even bothering me in the first place," Nadine began helplessly, keeping her gaze away from their boss who was making her very uncomfortable with the way she was looking at her, "and why I didn't tell you the moment I found out, but"
Tahiri leaned even closer to her. "C'mon, Nadine! What is it?"
"It's Leia Organa Solo. She she's alive."
The listeners were all shocked at her announcement, but their shock came at different intensities. Tahiri, though she seemed surprised, only gaped at the young woman. Danni, who usually took shocking news with limited physical gestures --- as she often took surprises of that kind in her life as a researcher --- did not only look at the speaker with wide eyes, one of her hands was covering her mouth.
It was the eldest of the four women, however, who had the greatest intensity of shock among them all. Arica practically stood up, slamming her hands on the table and pushing her chair backward in reaction as she did so. "What?!" she asked, greatly surprised, and despite the firmness of her voice, there was no trace of anger in it. Shortly after, realizing how she had acted, she slid back into her seat and inquired in voice just above a whisper, "Are you sure it was her?"
Nadine shrugged, much to the older woman's disappointment. "I don't know, Aunt Arica," she admitted, this time meeting the redhead's green eyes with her brown ones, "I don't know how I identified it as her in the first place. I don't even know why I'm telling you about this, when I haven't confirmed if it was really her." She then shook her head. "I don't even know her!"
"Well, this sure is something we have to investigate," Arica said, relaxing and regaining her composure. She swept her gaze from one girl to the other, finally resting it on the leader of the assassin trio she established. "But there's something else we have to check out first." She stood up, walked over to the small table where Danni left the newspaper she was reading, and picked it up. "Gerhardus Wohler, a freelance photographer, working for various newspaper companies. I find it simply ironic that all the pictures associated with his name are of murder victims. Look at what we have for today."
She tossed the newspaper to the young woman who sat nearest to her, which was Danni, and the other two immediately scurried to her side to examine the article that decorated the front page. Just as what Arica said, it was about a widow murdered in her own home, with a matching picture that had Wohler's name printed immediately below it. "Okay, so he took the picture of a dead woman. Big deal," Tahiri muttered, pulling back to address their boss. "What's your point, Aunt Arica? I mean, people die everyday."
"No, wait," the girl's older version, twenty-three-year-old Danni, interrupted, handing the periodical to their leader as she turned to face their aunt. "I remember reading about a murder case just a few days ago. It was Wohler who took the photograph, and it was pretty fresh --- like it was taken just after the murder. To add to that, that certain victim, just like this widow, visited a fortune-teller named Kerouac sometime in the last thirty-six hours of his life."
"Once again, your brilliance astounds me, Danni Quee," their commander praised, beaming at her deduction. While Danni felt like disappearing from where she was sitting out of embarrassment, Arica turned to look at the youngest member of Moirae, smiling lightly. "And that, Tahiri Veila, was the point I was trying to imply. I believe that Wohler has something to do with the murders themselves, and I, too, am suspecting him and the seer Kerouac to be one and the same. I want you to confirm those speculations of mine, though --- innocent until proven guilty, as we say. Then, when this is over, we shall deal with the surprising existence of Leia Organa Solo."
The apartment Gerhardus Wohler was staying in was small, old and shabby, yet it was enough for the middle-aged freelance photographer, for he had nothing much to keep in his possession anyway. All he cared for was his camera, and all the pictures he had taken ever since he began his work. In fact, because of his lifestyle, the only part of the room that was ever occupied at a daily basis was his bedroom.
It was ten in the morning, and the sun was once again causing intense heat to spread across the land. Wohler, who had been looking at his collection of pictures for nearly an hour, finally felt the heat and decided to open the window to let the air in. As he did so, he took the opportunity to peer out of his little room, and that was when he saw a young, attractive blond making her way through the busy streets.
He brightened up considerably, not seeing women like her for quite sometime now. True, there were a lot of beautiful dames in the town where he lived, but most --- if not, all --- of them were dressed in shabby robes that did not make them look appealing in any way, and with greased, dirt-stained faces. But the woman he had his deep blue eyes fixed on was different. She was neat and impressive-looking.
To add to his delight, she stopped just below him, in front of the door of his little apartment. Excited to have a guest such as her, the thirty-six year old bachelor rushed down from his bedroom, eager to welcome the visitor in his humble abode. He stopped by the cobweb-tainted wall mirror to fix his hair before he opened the door with a wide, welcoming smile on his face. "Yes, m'lady? How may I be of service to you?"
"Mr. Gerhardus Wohler?" Her voice was strict and cold.
"Y-yes," he stammered, flushing considerably as her emerald eyes pierced through him. He didn't even notice how stern-faced she was, and how nonchalant and indifferent she appeared. All he knew was that she was young and beautiful, and that was all that mattered to the photographer who never had spent time with women like her for a long time. "It is I. Please, c-come in."
He led her inside his unclean living room, obvious in the way the floors did not shine and in the way dust settled on the few pieces of furniture. However, she did not permit him to touch her. Instead of taking the arm he extended, she walked right in, looking around while wrinkling her nose. After a brief period of examination, she whirled around to face the photographer, who closed the door with an inviting smile. "Dana Reich."
"Gerhardus Wohler. Miss Reich, if you like---"
"I know," she cut her off sharply with drastically narrowed eyes, before her lips twisted into a sardonic smile, enjoying the priceless look on the man's features. She wrinkled her nose once again. "Anyway, Mr. Wohler, I'd like to get down to business. I just wanted to inquire if you know someone named Kerouac, as well as his whereabouts."
The question caught Wohler off-guard, just as intended, and his guest clearly noticed the expression that crept up to his face, faint as it was. A second after, however, it was gone --- but the impression that he knew the person mentioned remained on the young woman. "K-kerouac?" he croaked, his features showing mock confusion. "N-no, I haven't heard of him at all, my lady, forgive me."
She nodded curtly. "Very well, then. I shall be going."
"W-wait, Miss Reich!" Wohler interrupted, reaching out to stop her. "May I at least offer you a cup of tea?"
Reich stopped, her hand clamped on the doorknob. "I must refuse, Mr. Wohler, because I do not desire to be acquainted with liars," she pointed out loudly, her voice as steadfast as it was ever since she stepped into the photographer's apartment. She twisted the knob open, opening the door, but before she completely walked out and shut the door, she added, "And it's Madam, Mr. Wohler. Madam Reich."
The door slammed shut.
"What?! Kerouac isn't here?!" Tahiri exclaimed in a high-pitched voice of phony panic, shaking her hands as if she had to use the bathroom before the world would come to an end. Her brown-eyed companion, Nadine, chose to wait outside, watching the younger girl's back, as usual. "But I must talk to him! It's an emergency! Can't give me his address or something?! I'll pay as much as you need, just please, let me see him!"
She annoyed the innkeeper, yes, but the man knew that it was the perfect opportunity to earn something more than the usual. He was given strict orders by the seer not to give his address out, but Kerouac never said that he could not sell his address. "Two hundred," he told the fifteen-year-old with a straight face, indicating that he did not want to go around in circles. "And I'll give you his address."
Unsure if she would waste that much money on such a bargain, the blond young woman turned around slightly to glance at her companion --- who nodded curtly even before she could ask her. Tahiri then pulled out a handful of bills from her pocket, counted two hundred, then gave them to the innkeeper shakily, maintaining her façade. "Please, hurry. I need to see him as soon as possible. I'm begging you, sir, I need---"
"Yes, girlie, I'm at it. Just hang on quietly, all right?" the innkeeper interrupted in a vexed tone aiming to make the young woman shut her mouth. When Tahiri did not say a word after that, relief surged through the man at the short spell of silence, and taking advantage of it, he took a piece of paper, scribbled the fortune-teller's address, then handed it to his guest without a word.
Tahiri opened her mouth to say thanks, but quickly decided against it, as she saw that the man had more than enough of her prattling. Instead, she turned around and ran out of the inn, putting her act as a girl going through an emergency to a close, and Nadine marching after her shortly after.
Disgust shone through Lachesis' face as she averted her gaze from their target to her comrades, her black-colored combat shoes making a soft sound as she shifted her position. "The man's a perverted freak," she whispered, obviously sickened as she pushed herself closer to the wall to observe his movements without being seen. "He was looking at me as if I was the most interesting thing in the world, and as if he hasn't seen a woman since he was born. Honestly, I nearly lost my composure in abhorrence."
It was already a quarter past nine when the trio headed for Wohler's apartment, taking advantage of the fact that most of the villagers would be asleep the time they arrive at the area, and that the brain of their team would be able to rewire the lampposts to put them off without having to worry about being spotted. They successfully completed the first phase of their plan; it was time for them to infiltrate Wohler's residence and shut his mouth for good.
Clotho started removing her shoes, glad to be rid of them for the rest of the mission. "Up I go," she announced brightly, giving the other two assassins a thumbs up before she moved up using the pipes, as stealthily as she used to do.
Their leader, Atropos, was also at her part of the mission. She unzipped her bodysuit to reveal a short, velvet dress that did not fail to show her curves that would definitely be appealing to the middle-aged photographer. Turning to the older woman, she said, "You stay here and keep watch. Clotho should be right over the bedroom once I get there. You know what to do if anything happens," before she motioned Lachesis to go away by placing her fist on the door.
At that, the twenty-three-year-old nodded in affirmation, sprinting towards the other side of the house and staying there in silence, her back firmly pressed against the wall, in a position ready for anything, from eavesdropping to barging in without an invitation. She heard Atropos knock twice, Wohler scurry to the door to see who would visit him at a particular time of the night, and gasp slightly at the sight of yet another charming young woman. For the photographer, it was his lucky day.
"P-please, come in, m'lady," he invited, which made Lachesis grimace considerably. He said the same words when she went to check up on him earlier that day. Atropos did not say a word as she was escorted inside, but merely nodded at the other's statements; she was once again playing as the charming innocent lady falling into a trap. Unlike a true charming innocent lady falling into a trap, she was very much aware that she was walking into one.
Lachesis strained to hear the conversation that was beginning to take place between the predator and the prey, when her sensitive eyes, exceptionally trained by their commander Arica who gave her the position of a watchman, caught the sound of footsteps, apparently heading towards the apartment. And it wasn't coming from a single set of feet; to her analysis, there were about five men, two of them particularly large, coming her way. Sparing a glance at the rooftop --- where Clotho was stationed, once again hanging upside-down to peer into the target's bedroom without being noticed --- she pulled out six darts from a storage space on her belt, holding three on each hand, and prepared to strike. She wasn't going to take chances.
She crept towards the unexposed side of the apartment to hide, so that if ever they were Wohler's cronies she would be able to attack them by surprise. As the group of five drew closer and closer to the apartment, she heard a gruff voice murmur, "Such fools. Totally unaware that seeing Master Kerouac would seal their fate."
And those words verified the assassin's speculations about their target's strategy. Kerouac, the fortune-teller, would speak of death to his clients, then have them killed through his own set of slayers in less than twenty-four hours in fulfillment to his prophecy. He would then take a picture of the victim, sending copies of it to various newspaper companies under the name Gerhardus Wohler. Since most journalists favored murders as topics to discuss in periodicals, the photographer was paid highly for all his efforts.
Lachesis stole a glance inside the apartment, and saw Atropos succeeding in her plans. The man was trapped in a corner, trembling in fear at the sight that was before him, as the young woman had a pistol aimed at his forehead. The eighteen-year-old usually killed with a sword, as she was extremely skilled at handling one, but she also liked using a pistol, especially the one that was specifically created for her use.
She fired.
The sound made Wohler's henchmen stop in their tracks; then, realizing that it came from their Master's house, they hurried towards it as fast as their legs would carry them, swearing that if something happened to their boss, they were going to make sure he would be avenged. They did not make it to the door, however, for Clotho dropped from the roof and landed on one of men, sending him tumbling on his comrades as she did a back flip that kept her at a suitable distance from her foes.
"And you're equally unaware that seeing your Master would seal your fate," she taunted, her lips forming a smirk. Seeing that they were regaining their composure, she fell into a fighting stance, unsheathing the two swords that were strapped to her back. They were not as long and as big as the one Atropos usually carried with her, but they were just as effective. "Because I will seal your fate. Looks like the big boys wanna play. Very well, let's play."
She charged, slashing left and right as she tore through the wall of men that planned on fighting her and blocking her assault. Caught by surprise, they were unable to avoid or counter her attack on time, and they fell to the ground, one by one. Their leader, who stood at the last row of their formation --- a muscular man in his late twenties --- managed to take out his sword and block her two blades that were sliding down to slash him in two.
Unfortunately for him, he never got the chance to strike back, or to even taunt the fifteen-year-old for her stupidity. He fell to the ground even before Clotho's blade buried itself through his flesh, three darts pinned on his back. "Sorry, Clotho," Lachesis apologized as she stepped out from the shadows, with two darts on her left hand and one on the right, "but I couldn't let you have all the fun. I didn't want to just be a spectator in this mission, you know."
The younger girl smiled as she put her swords back into their holsters, putting her hands on her hips proudly after she did so. "No worries, Lachesis. We were taught teamwork and cooperation; it would be stupid not to put into application what we have learned, wouldn't it?"
"Smooth," Atropos commented as she came up from behind her comrades, clutching Clotho's new-looking combat shoes --- after all, the fifteen-year-old assassin barely used them. She threw the pair towards the youngest member of their squad, who did not, despite their expectation, put them back on. "Oh well, let's head home. Our mission's accomplished."
---
Author's Notes:
I apologize for the mistake I made in the previous chapter. The title's actually in Latin, not Old English. This chapter's title, on the other hand is in Old Norse, deyja, meaning die. Also, I would like to apologize for the slow pace of this fic. I promise the other characters we all know and love will appear soon, I just don't want to rush things. *smiles*
Anyway, I am extremely flattered by your comments! *blushes* Thanks to Shai, Wolvie, Yuriko Oyama aka RaineSolo, Vorquellyn, Sora Kairi and Artemis347, I'm so glad that you're actually interested in what I've written here! Now to answer your questions! *clears throat* Let's see Mirax isn't originally in the plot, but I'll do my best to squeeze her in. For Luke, I already have something planned for him, but I'm not sure if it'll be desirable. I fear dark force lightning bolts. =s As for Han, Leia and the brothers, I think I should say that you'll just have to wait and see. *winks*
As for the pairings, I still have to decide --- and I'm sure you could help me decide! And to make everyone happy, at least until I get to decide on who Jaina will really end up with, there'll be a little of all three pairings: J/J, J/K and J/Z. Oh and by the way, Artemis347, it's not that I don't care about Kyp, he's actually one of my favorite characters, but I didn't ask for the age gap anymore because I got it all figured out through the help of Shai and the books. Thank you for your recommendation, too! I'll try to post this there, although I have a history of suddenly disappearing from boards and forums for no reason at all. =/
I also would like to thank Shai for pointing out the age gap between Jaina and Zekk, and Vorquellyn and Sora Kairi for pointing out the age gap between Jaina and Jag. Anyway, I think that's all I have to say for now; if you have any other requests for the characters you want me to put it, feel free to let me know, and I'll try to see what I can do. Or if you simply want to talk to me --- whether you want to convince me to choose a certain pairing or you want me to kill someone off --- IM me at MSN (riddikulus_moony@hotmail.com), Yahoo (ssj_kaz) or AIM (Kazie Moony). Thank you very much once again!