You'll be glad to know that there is more of Shizuru and Natsuki in this chapter. I'm truly sorry for going off on a tangent, but it all adds up in the end, I promise!
Chapter 5- Messages and Moonlight
Shizuru knew that Natsuki was avoiding her, it was obvious enough. She had walked 'aimlessly' around the castle and wherever she had gone, a swish of sapphire hair around the corner told her that she had displaced the new maid from wherever she had previously been.
She had to find out more about Natsuki. There was something, just a fraction of un-shielded consciousness, that gave the girl the air of an unsheathed dagger about her; she was better than the rest, she was above them, and, in a strange way, Shizuru could relate to that. She almost idolized the maid. There was also another quality, which Shizuru had only seen a flicker of so far, when she had gotten too close in the bell tower. It was feral aggression, like a wild animal's. What a strange girl, and an even stranger maid.
Yet, even knowing full well that the possibility of Natsuki being something like a spy or assassin didn't faze Shizuru, she just somehow knew that the younger girl didn't want to hurt her.
She didn't fear for herself, no, she feared for her father, who, in her opinion, was the true target of whatever was going on. And it was very, very hard to keep a secret from Princess Shizuru.
Whilst the game of cat and mouse was taking place upstairs, something slightly less lighthearted was happening in the King's office downstairs. Magthor sat upon his throne-liked chair and ran his calloused fingers through the graying hair upon his head. He growled and slammed his fist upon the table with fearsome strength, pulling out a few of his hairs in the progress.
"This was not supposed to happen, damned be it! We stopped the war once, and even if you have to kill every woman and child in my city, we will stop it again!" He snarled at the cloaked figure before him. "I have spent forty years of my life getting this kingdom under control, and no insignificant wayward Halfling is going to supercede me! I don't care what you have to do, whom you have to hire or why, but you will find the source of the rumors and you will kill it!"
With the final 'it', Magthor spat at the figure and gestured for them to leave. Outside, the boy drew his hood and smiled lazily at the nearly full moon.
"You don't care, eh…? Well then, it seems I have been given license to have some… fun…" he chuckled darkly, his pinkish eyes glittering maliciously, the breeze ruffling his snow- white hair. He stood, unmoving, for a few more moments, and then decided it was time to fill out his master's orders.
The boy chuckled again and vanished into the wind.
--0--
Natsuki leaned on the mop she was holding and sighed tiredly; it had been a long day of chores. Even though she had undergone rigorous physical training with Sergay, he body was geared for quick, lithe, powerful movements; not the monotone of sweeping a long and badly-balanced mop around for a long time. Her hands ached for her daggers; Natsuki wondered for a moment why it was going to take so long to kill the blasted king.
She was idly strolling back to the laundry to pick up the clothes that the washerwomen should have dried by now when a raven flew in a perched upon the windowsill. Natsuki cautiously went over to it and in response the raven detached a scroll from its leg and pecked her finger before flying back off again.
The assassin picked up the scroll and eyed the seal upon it; Sergay's signature crossed daggers, a sure sign that it was a memorandum concerning her work. Warily opening it, she began to read the spidery handwriting.
Kuga,
Our important friend has been talking to a ladybird. Please immediately serve him higher-grade tea, and remember that the back door is always open on the night of no shadows.
S.W
How typical of Sergay to send Kuga a particularly cryptic letter. She knew what some of it meant, like that 'higher-grade tea' possibly meant poison. The ladybird line completely eluded her, so she settled on thinking about the last sentence. The back door is always open on the night of no shadows? Well, which night has no shadows? Natsuki thought for a while, and after some deep contemplation, the night without shadows had to be the full moon, because it couldn't be anything else. But the back door was… what exactly? Natsuki rubbed her head and frowned, annoyed at Sergay's ambiguousness.
Now, whilst Natsuki had been motionless and pensive, she had unwillingly given the princess and chance to catch up with her. Putting the note carefully into one of her pockets, Natsuki turned to go to the laundry, and came face to face with an amused looking princess.
"Ara, why has my maid been avoiding me?" she pouted, faking a little sniff at the end. Natsuki just stood, paralyzed, her brain madly calculating any possible escape route. When it came up with a large zero, Shizuru seemingly sensed this and smiled a crocodile smile.
"Ah… um… I was just…" she attempted to say, but the princess was now gracefully advancing upon her, step by step forcing her closer to a corner. A very much literary corner, make from the cool white stone from which the whole of Windbloom seemed to be carved.
As Shizuru got closer, Natsuki became more and more worried; the girl had a predatory gleam in her eyes; the type she had seen before, and as her porcelain hand reached out towards her, Natsuki's heart began beating erratically, she was beginning to perspire. Closer and closer the hand came, and Natsuki saw the older girl tremble slightly as she bridged the distance between them, another few inches and their faces would touch, Shizuru closed her eyes and leaned in…
Natsuki had been so sure; so sure that the princess was going to make a move on her, so sure that her body had readied herself for a kiss, but when she felt a fragile yet strong pair of arms around her, and Shizuru's body pressing against hers, she actually let out a sigh of relief. Shizuru was bending down slightly to hug her. And innocent, friendly hug was all it was. Awkwardly and rigidly standing there, Natsuki's embarrassment got the better of her and she pushed the princess away quite roughly, and with strength that a maid was not supposed to possess. She quickly excused herself with a mutter about 'laundry' and briskly walked off in the opposite direction.
Shizuru, who had been thrown to the floor by the force of Natsuki's rejection, was saddened, yes, but delighted at the same time. From under her side, she pulled out a flattened and rumpled but still very much legible scroll of parchment; the very same that Natsuki had tucked into her back pocket. Congratulating herself of a job well done, the not-so-innocent princess skipped back to her chambers, only one thing on her mind; the letter.
Natsuki let out a chain of multi-lingual curses as she walked back towards the washing room on a roundabout route, which happened to take twice as long. The encounter with Shizuru had shaken her up and caused a fair amount of blushing, and potion-wasting to boot. That princess really aggravated her… yet, why couldn't Natsuki take her eyes of the beautiful young woman?
Giving her head a firm shake, Natsuki concentrated once again on mopping the royal bathroom, and it is safe to say that the odor inside said royal bathroom was not particularly pleasant; the king did not exactly smell of roses.
Later that day, when the setting sun once again plunged the fair city of Windbloom into a myriad of sunset hues, Natsuki re-entered the princess's chambers, laden with a heavy bundle of washing. After setting it down and putting it all the correct drawers, she eyed the sleeping figure of Shizuru on the bed; her head and body were facing towards that window, which implied that she had began to slumber whilst watching sundown. Natsuki couldn't help but chortle at the odd position as she drew the covers over Shizuru's lightly snoring form. After shutting the curtains, she silently exited and wished the princess good dreams.
After all, they would be the last she would ever have; tomorrow, her father dearest would wake up somewhat feverish and with a malign feeling around his system. A few days afterwards, he would be unable to exit bed.
And after exactly a week to that day, King Magthor the first of Windbloom would die.
In his chambers, Magthor was sat up in bed, awaiting tea from the kitchens. A good cup of tea would always calm him down and set him to sleep, and nowadays he really needed sleep.
Miss Maria came up with his tea tray, an unusual look of concern on her aged face. She set the cup of tea down next to the King and peered at him, voicing her concerns.
"It doesn't do well to dwell upon the past, your Majesty…" she whispered, leaving the room.
Magthor sighed and took a sip of his tea; it tasted stronger, but he didn't mind. He felt drowsy within a few minutes, and fell asleep quickly, to a night void of dreams. And, when her woke up, the cogs of fate would begin to turn; not just for him, not just for Shizuru or Natsuki or Windbloom, but for the entire world. The world he had struggled for so long to grasp in the palm of his hand was about to unravel in the most interesting of ways.
Natsuki sat on her windowsill, her legs dangling down into nothingness. She sighed and looked at the now not full phial of poison in her hand. She shouldn't be thinking like this, no, but all of a sudden the assassin wondered why she had to kill this man. It surely didn't benefit the Allied clans in any way, as, without a monarch or foreseeable heir, the faction could fall into civil war, allowing the Host to gain prevalence and possibly even overthrow them…
Natsuki winced as the moon came out from behind a large cloud, her eyes adjusting to the new level of light. Once they had, he turned her emerald orbs to the beautiful specter that hung precariously in the sky, enthralled. She had always felt a strange kind of empathy towards the moon; she loved how it shined so brightly and alone in the night sky, and how it commanded all of the stars. It was believed that stars were really dead souls who had not moved on, but Kuga didn't really know if this was true or not. It was nice to think that they were, because this was an explanation, which needed no proof to back up, and then they didn't have to go and research what stars really were.
She felt a tug in her chest as Natsuki stared into the now clear velvety blackness. The moon was full and bright, and so large tonight. Another tug in her chest reminded Natsuki of Sergay's letter.
And remember that the back door is always open on the night of no shadows.
Tonight was the night of no shadows! Everything made sense now! Natsuki twirled her body back around and ran into her room, slamming the window shut and drawing curtains shut. She went to the other side of the room and did it again with the other set, and frantically jumped into bed, throwing the covers over her head. As any good assassin could, she willed her body to shut down, for her mind to sleep, and succeeded, but just before she lost consciousness, Natsuki remembered.
She had forgotten to lock the door.
Blurred, rushing, fleeting, gone. The crisp late autumn wind blew a few maple leaves across the field, making the only noise that could be heard for miles around. The grass, damn beneath, was pleasant. A barn owl, a mouse hanging from his strong beak, flew overhead, blotting the whole moon momentarily; it hurt. It hurt so much, every morn, every eve, every breath and moment. The almost silent beatings of the owl's wings were painfully loud, the detail of the world such a terrible thing. From behind, the lights of a beautiful city, promising warmth. Yet, the icy pastures seemed better, in a way, seemed more familiar.
Then, the shot. Men, many men, came running up the hill, came running straight. Swords, muskets, axes bared. Fighting, savage and bloody. All there was to do was rip and tear; nothing else mattered. They fell, one by one; down into the cool grass of the meadow, their faces marred with hemorrhaging scratches, deep, right into their flesh. Triumph as they defiled the once beautiful pasture with their tainted lifeblood. Pain as the last shot hit home. Fog, lots of fog, clouding over, and then-
--0--
Commander Tomoe sat upon her great ethereal horse, called back from the dead to serve her evil purposes, and groaned. The trip had been long and hard, and the Spindræ hadn't even let her rest except for four hours each night. However, in their eyes, this had paid off handsomely, as, by the third day, the reddish sands of Barren's Plain were indeed quite proximate.
However, traveling with Arak'Nathal and Tha'tzul was not what one could say was pleasant. They stank of rotting flesh and were secreting a foul-smelling substance all day around, and they always had a hungry look in their eye, especially when looking at the commander. Tomoe was scared witless by them, and was glad that her stint was finally seemingly coming to a close.
Later that day, at around three o'clock, the sprawling mass of sand that was Twyr came into view. The town was made of many low buildings, some only about a metre off the ground. They were made of hardened sand on top, but these were just the entrance to the town, if you like. Underneath the desert, there was a huge complex of tunnels and houses, even squares with shops and an underground lake. Tywr was truly an odd place, but it served its purpose well.
They dismounted just outside the town, and Tomoe dismissed her mount back to its plane of existence, ready to call upon it again if it was needed. Tomoe might not be a mage, but she was a decent necromancer, when push came to shove. Arak'Nathal led the troupe, which consisted of about ten Orc foot soldiers, three cavalrymen, the two Spindræ and Tomoe herself into the town and through the biggest of the entrances, and even then that would barely accommodate the two massive arachnids.
Down an impossibly long set of spiraling stairs and through a passageway, they met the gatekeepers, standing stoic and unmoving, and behind them, the registrar with his scroll, ink and quill, eagerly scribbling already.
"And what business does the commander of the Host have in our peaceful town?" he smiled crookedly, showing his yellowing tusk-like teeth. His hand was almost already beginning to reach out; the Host was known for not really upholding moral values, and a bag of gold went a long way in most places.
"Yes, my kind registrar, there are two things that you may be able to do for me today… if that would be okay?" Tomoe purred, dropping two bags of jingling money into his filthy hands. "All my companions and I wish for is passage into your wonderful town, and perhaps a little of your extensive knowledge?"
He smiled and nodded enthusiastically, his beady eyes transfixed on the beautiful woman and the bags of gold in his claws.
"Do you happen to know if some gypsy friends of mine are in town? A Plainsrunner by the name of Hallard and a human girl with her?" Tomoe was getting quite excited now.
"Well, since you did ask so nicely…" he eyed the gold in his hands again, "I don't think it would hurt to just tell you a bit…"
--0--
meh, I am very evil, but I don't want the plot to get finished too quickly! This was one of my more thought-out stories, in terms of plot, I actually made a story board, though I've lost it again… please, give me constructive criticism, or even just nice reviews. Both make me want to write more!