An Absence of Light (complete)

Suddenly, Drethiel felt himself to be choking. His feet weren't touching the ground - in fact, no part of him was. He opened his eyes and found that he was face to face with Ashen, who was holding him up by his shirt. His hands, covered by a thin layer of frost, were placed weakly around her grip on his shirt. He was not yet strong enough to pull himself up and free his airflow, so he spoke in gasping breaths. "A-shen" He rasped. "Put me- ...down."

He felt frustration and a sense of helplessness well up inside him. Oh, sure, she was upset because her so-called friend was left with a dangerous entity, but taking care of him as well wasn't his responsibility. In fact, none of this was his responsibility, but he did it anyway. What a waste of time... what have I gotten myself into? Is this some kind of nostalgia I'm reveling in, trying to be a savior? That's not my job anymore... Ugh. His eyes widened a bit in fear as she pulled back her fist, ready to punch him. He attempted to loosen her grip on him, but found his hands slipping from their grasp instead. He let them hang by his side, and looked into her furious eyes with his own half-closed ones. All was silent except for their contrasting breathing patterns, and the slow, monotonous dripping of blood on the snow. "pl..ease..." Maybe if I cry she'll have a change of heart. 

"calm-" 

His voice broke, and he couldn't finish his sentence. With his stillness, he felt her shaking. He shot her an empathetic glance, and the fear in her own eyes registered. What was he supposed to say? He was feeling weaker by the minute, and his voice was so quiet that it wasn't worth it to speak. I'm sorry. I tried to do you a favor. Don't ask me why, for this isn't something I usually do. He tried to communicate telepathically as he gasped for air, but he doubted that she would hear it. His powers were dampened as it was, not to mention his struggling breath. When it comes to dark beings and evil matter, it's safe to say I get riled up.

When he felt his feet touch the ground and the pressure loosen on his neck, Drethiel buckled over and began to cough. His breathing was harsh, more of a wheezing fit to be exact. He stared blankly into the snow, feeling dizzy. Whatever Ashen was saying, he didn't register until his legs gave out and he hit the ground. He once again brought his hand to his back, and managed to freeze his wounds over with a thin layer of ice. The cold soothed him, and he lay on the ground in silence, looking at her feet. After his pulse steadied, he spoke up again. "He seemed quite skilled, is he an assassin? Don't be so quick to doubt your friend's abilities. I reckon he'll be concerned enough about you that he'll be trailing us soon enough, if not already..." He frowned, and placed his frigid hands against his neck. "Give him a chance. Wait for him, and he'll come for you. Why do you think he stayed earlier on the bridge? He clearly doesn't trust me."

If he does show up, he may just have a job waiting for himself.

Drethiel sighed when she approached. "Well, it's not like much worse could happen if I did..." He willingly complied, exposing his wounds to her. His blood had always been cold, so the ice stayed intact, glistening a little in the moonlight. It wouldn't melt unless something warm physically drew near, such as her hand... Was she going to heal him? Judging by the tone of her voice, he guessed - no, he hoped she would. He closed his eyes, and braced himself for pain, just to be on the safe side. Spreading his wings a little, he made sure she could get to his bloodstained back a bit easier.

A pleased smile spread across Dreth's face as he was healed. White light always felt so wonderful, unless it was emitting from the Valkyrie... 

He shook his head a little, not wanting to obsess over her further. Not now. Feeling like he had some strength back in him again, he pushed himself up to a seated position. "It could have been worse. Don't worry about it. You could have really torn my back up, but it was only a few gashes. I thank you for healing me after that... experience." He shot her a surprised look at her last question, and then couldn't help but start to laugh. "Cold? Am I cold? Of course I'm cold, Ashen!" Shaking with laughter, he removed his cloak, and pulled his shirt over his head. He threw them into the snow in front of him, unfazed and grinning. "Winter weather, brisk winds... ice is my element, I absolutely revel in it." His torso was thin, but had no real defined muscle mass. His black hair brushed onto his pale shoulders, and emphasized the contrast. He folded his wings back behind him, and embraced the frigid air.

"I like my clothing to be completely white, you see... it reminds me of the snow." He made a face at the bloodied clothes in front of him, brooding, concentrating. He held out his hands over them, and narrowed his eyes. Slowly, blood droplets began to rise from the material, up onto his fingers where they froze. Not all of it was gone, but whatever had enough of a liquid state had come out. Grunting a little, he wiped his hands off in the snow beside him. "They still need to be washed, but at least it's not as bad..." He frowned a little, but he supposed it was par for the course when one gets injured. He casually pulled his shirt back on, but kept the cloak out in front of him. Glancing up at Ashen, he spoke. "Worry not."

"Hmm?" He cocked his head to the side, confused. "Why would that insult me? I know very well the damages the cold causes others." That's why I use it to my advantage when I can. He got up onto his feet. "You see, it's not that I don't feel it. I merely enjoy it, just as you, or most other people may enjoy a warm embrace. I, in turn, dislike too much warmth and detest fire. It stirs the anger in me..." He sighed. "...and I prefer not to show my wrath. But none of us are perfect, we are all with our sins. There's a good side, and a bad side to everything." Dreth reached down and piled some snow into his hands, showing it off to Ashen. In one swift movement, he let go of it, and made a space between his hands in order to manipulate it. In a short amount of time, the snow melted in some areas, and formed to take shape of a dagger. It looked brittle and weak until he grabbed hold of it, turning it into ice. 

He held out the dagger to Ashen and smiled. "You see this? It's a weapon. Sharp enough for a stab wound, and capable of causing a decent amount of pain. But hold it for long enough, and it becomes a drink to quench your thirst." Next, he pointed to the frozen blood bits in the snow. "What I did earlier was manipulate a liquid. I'm not limited to just water, you see. But there's only so much I can do in the position that I'm in, so it's not like I could freeze an entire lake, or completely solidify the blood in one's veins." He shrugged lightly. "Winter is my time of the year. When summer comes, I prefer to migrate to colder climates... but this year may be different." His tone grew serious. "Ashen, I haven't seen many humans around here. Are there a lot? Or are they outnumbered by other beings, such as kinto like yourself, or elves and such?" He sat down again and peered up into her eyes with a curious expression. "Perhaps some even flee for the harsh winter months." 

I just want to know if it's worth it to stay here... he thought to himself. 

Stumbling out of his teleport, the assassin stopped to calm his heart. He had only traveled far enough away from the bridge to throw Zu off his tracks. The entire confrontation had unnerved him. A man that he couldn’t kill? He had always prided himself in the fact that when he struck, his target never got back up. But he had stabbed that man twice in the chest followed by a touch of death and still he lived.

Swallowing, he glanced down at the damage to his armor. The blood from the wound that no longer existed still soaked his shirt, and was beginning to freeze to the leather. Now he had to find someone to repair it. Damn.

Taking a heavy breath, he finally started trudging back to the main road. Staying just inside the forest once he got there he wracked his brain on what to do next. That mystery person flew away with Ashen. He was a fair tracker….but the one thing he could not track was an air born target. “Xsa…” He swore outwardly this time, hissing the word through his teeth.

A sudden searing pain cut through his left shoulder, nearly causing him to drop to his knees. Crying out, he darted behind the nearest tree. Swallowing hard, he peered behind him only to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from his shoulder. Was it Zu!? Had he somehow followed?? No…he recognized that arrow….They found him. How did they always find him!?

"Kethri! Give yourself up!" Yep....it was definitely him. This particular assassin had been on his tail for three years, sent by the town he grew up in.

Good shoulder pressed against the tree he tried to decide what to do. He couldn’t use his left arm, the arrow was lodged very painfully in the joint of his shoulder. That also meant he couldn’t wield his bow, leaving him with one single knife as a weapon.

Steeling himself against the pain, he called out. “You’re either a fantastic tracker or amazingly lucky. How did you find me?”

“There was only one road you could have left on in that last town. It was obvious you headed here.”

Moving with lightning speed, he rounded the tree towards the voice. But this reaction was foreseen by the other assassin who stepped into view. He was human, older, worn looking, but the stance he took as he drew his own knives emanated experience.

Meeting his opponent head on, Fallen knew he was immediately at a severe disadvantage. His opponent was wielding two blades to his one. It was all he could do to block or spin away from the lightning fast attacks. As their knives met again, he feigned right before sending an elbow into the man face. Stumbling back, the assassin didn’t have much time to recover as Fallen was on him immediately. Unfortunately he recovered fast enough to block the drows knife.

He was breathing hard and his entire shoulder was on fire. He wouldn’t last much longer, not like this. He had one option to win, but that would leave him wide open. No…he had to do it.
Rushing forward the drow knocked his opponent’s right blade away before sinking his own blade into the other man’s chest. But the problem was his opponent had more than one blade. He had purposely left himself open in order to win and the other assassin had taken his chance.

Gritting his teeth, Fallen narrowed his eyes at the other assassin as he fell dead to the ground.  Falling to his kness and Sheathing his knife, the drow pressed his hand to his side, pulling it away only to see the black leather glove covered in blood.

“X-xsa…” He grit out, face contorting in pain. He was in the middle of nowhere with no ally. He would bleed out before long …no….he did have an ally….but he had no idea where she was.

Running out of strength and time he came to a snap decision. Whispering the incant for a teleport, he quickly found himself outside of her home. The odds that she would be here were next to none…
Leaving a trail of blood in the snow, he stumbled over to the door, collapsing against it before sinking to the ground. Both his cowl and his scarf had fallen down revealing his entire face to the wind but he was beyond caring. At least the cold was slowing the blood flow slightly.

Dizzy and in pain, he rested his head against the wall, shutting his eyes. How did he ever catch you off guard….fool….you call yourself an assassin….