Kaiźer: Reunion of past and Present

~The enemy grows strong but the weaves that the mother creates, will be met with a fatherly touch to teach the new one’s of courage to be~

The Wise Sage of Genesteria ~ The Age of Echelons

~3921 A.B. Present Day~

The room smelled of stale tobacco and cheap perfume. Kaiźer eyed the patrons mulled about the tables and couches that took up the first floor's entirety. A lot of them smelled of rich wine and sex, but that didn’t hold his attention. Just a few moments ago, Kaiźer had watched an old friend walk through the door. Dressed in a merchant coat, the man had aged since last, he’d seen him, but he still held himself the same. Shoulders back chin low and eyes twinkling, he looked as if he had a secret he wished to share. All the same, Kiyle Ross seemed different, more mature, almost put together… complete. Looking at him now, Kaiźer nearly didn’t recognize his old friend.

Kiyle had walked in the door with a wide grin on his face, and Kaiźer had watched him mingle with a multitude of people, most of them female. Right away, it became apparent his old friend hadn’t changed much when it came to the ladies. Despite the man’s attitude, Kaiźer couldn’t place what was different about him. Moving through the tables, he had had only one sole intention: getting a lady of the sheets on his hip. However, when Kiyle saw him finally, his mission fell away, and his face lost its happy glow, becoming a mask of pure shock. He forgot about the woman he was talking to and turned to face him. Stumbling forward, he passed through the room, completely unaware of another lady who called out to him. When he didn’t reply, she gave him a rude gesture, spilling her drink in the process. The lady he had been talking to saw this and went to confront her. Kiyle didn’t even notice. Everyone who did get his attention he waved away without even looking their way. It was hard, knowing what was going through his mind as he approached, but Kaiźer shut the man’s thoughts out of his head and waited. Soon coming to stand at the bar before him, his old buddy looked at him in disbelief.

“Caine…” he asked softly, still unbelieving. “Is that you?”

The question was expected but, Caine? It took a minute for him to remember. It had been the name he’d used in the military 10 years back when he’d decided to learn about the world he’d left behind. After spending the last thousand years on the run, he had needed to catch up, so to say. He’d meet Kiyle during training one day, and the two of them had hit it off, quite literally. Kiyle had been overconfident in his abilities with a sword, and he had nearly lost his head to Kaiźer’s own blade. After that, Jokan, the blade master at the time, had put them on the same shifts for a week; served the lord Vermilian his wine and meals as punishment. All the same, during that time, they quickly became close friends.

It was no surprise that Kiyle was in denial at what he saw; he did look the same as he had ten years ago. Nevertheless, with him staring at him so intently, it was beginning to get awkward.

“Dude!” he snapped. “Would you stop staring? It’s getting weird. You’re acting as if I’m going to grow horns and a tail. Are you trying to find out where I keep my pitchfork?”

With a grunt, Kiyle looked down and stared at the counter. ~That was precisely what I was thinking, just not in that context. Why now? Why this day? There was no way this man could know my secret~

These thoughts reached Kaiźer, but he ignored them. The man’s secrets were his and his alone. He had no reason to know what kept his friend up at night.

“You are Caine? Aren’t you?” The words came out in a whisper as Kiyle looked back up at him, still unbelieving.

“I helped you prank Jasmine in our first year. The mice were a bit much, but the girl’s screams were worth it.”

At the memory of their prank against the princess, Kiyle’s face brightened, and he smiled from ear to ear. Not an ounce of awkwardness remained, and the two of them become lost in conversation. They sat at the bar for hours, only catching up on what had happened since they’d last seen each other. Kaiźer learned that his old friend had settled down and gotten his own place. It explained the mature air about him. He didn’t say much, only talking about the past year and how he now lived in the middle-class part of town.

After a while, things calmed down, and the two of them sipped their drinks in silence. They observed the crowd of people, Kaiźer watching Kiyle eyeing a watery-eyed lady who was being hassled by a group of ruffians who wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves. She was returning his friend's gaze here and there, but she didn’t leave the table she sat at. She was interested in his friend that was clear but was most likely too shy to say anything. Besides, being a green forest nymph made it hard for her to connect with people. Also, she probably didn’t want to anger the fellow who kept fiddling with her dress.

“Hey bud, that lady you keep staring at seems to be in a bit of a pickle.”

Kiyle looked at him then back at the lady. Kaiźer saw him sparring with the decision to go or not. He kept wringing his hands and adjusting his collar but still, he didn’t get up.

“Gods!” he groaned. “Just go already!” Gripping Kiyle’s arm, Kaiźer pulled him to his feet and gave him a shove. Stumbled forward, Kiyle quickly regaining his balance and shot a stern look over his shoulder. Kaiźer gave a wave in response, all the while grinning like a fool.

Kiyle turned away, squared his shoulder, and walked towards the club's far side where the lady sat. She glanced up, and upon seeing Kiyle approaching, a pink blush filled her cheeks, and he knew his buddy was in for a struggle and sure enough. When he arrived, the men who were sitting at the table looked up at him as one. Kaiźer wondered how his friend would handle the situation, so when Kiyle spoke up, and the man who had his hands on Jessíca shot to his feet, Kaiźer did nothing. His friend didn’t even move a muscle in response, though and Kaiźer grinned behind his glass of beer. The man’s buddies joined him, standing to either side of brute number one.

Still not moving a muscle, Kiyle directed a question at Jessíca, and she nodded, eyes wide. Brute number one looked between the two of them, and it was then that Kiyle moved.

Dropping slightly, he rammed his fist into the big guy’s gut, doubling him over. As the guy gripped his middle, Kiyle kneed him in the face, breaking his nose. Jessíca let out a small squeak, and Kaiźer chuckled at the sight of the big man now on the ground, clutching his broken face.

Kiyle pushed the downed man away and faced his buddies. He did nothing to egg them on, standing with his hands at his sides, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long. They bull-rushed him as one, and he became a blur of color, striking vital points on each man in quick succession. Passing through them, he came to a stop behind them and stood straight, not even bothering to see if they were done.

His attack had put them all on their faces in one go. Not even a minute had passed since the fight had begun, and already, the six goons lay unconscious. Kiyle was the top commander to the king, but no one knew his face or name, and he liked to keep it that way. Kaiźer would make sure no one said a word of this once outside the doors. From what he had learned about Kiyle during their talk, the man hadn’t sat idle since last they’d met. He hadn’t risen through the ranks to become who he was today with ease.

Jessíca stood at the table in shock. She had yet to move since Kiyle had landed the first hit, and as the goons landed on the hardwood of the floor, she jumped at the impact. Looking at Kiyle, she babbled till he went and placed a finger against her lips to quiet her.

Suddenly the lady threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. Kiyle’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he let her pull away before he spoke up.

Jessíca’s eyes went wide, and she nodded quickly. Had he? Kaiźer was sure he had just asked what he knew he would have asked.

Backing away, Kiyle just about bumped into a table, nearly falling over in the process. Jessíca giggled, and Kaiźer watched his friend smile in embarrassment as he turned and walked away quickly. Arriving back at the table, Kiyle fell into his chair with a huff. “I feel like a total fool,” he mumbled.

Kaiźer shook his head and laughed. “You are no such thing. I’d dare say she was happy for the help. Those men weren’t going to stop anytime soon, that was for sure.”

“Yeah, I know. You sure the lady was happy with me, interfering?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m positive.”

Kiyle smiled and took a sip from his beer. “I was sure I’d botched it at the end there.”

“I doubt that.”

Smiling, Kiyle held his hand out. “I did get this, though,” he said. In it was a small slip of paper. Scribbled on it in neat bubbly handwriting was a name and an address.

Kaiźer grinned. He had always thought Kiyle to be quite the showboat and what had just happened proved that. “I will warn you,” he said in a quiet voice. “Jessíca’s a little shy when it comes to meeting new people.”

Kiyle raised an eyebrow but nodded as his mind registered the fact. “Got it!”

“Now, on that note, I wish you the best of luck because I have to get back to work.

You have a good rest of your night, bud.”

“Back at yah,” Kiyle said with a salute of his beer, quickly draining it in turn.

With a sigh, Kaiźer rose to his feet and moved back behind the bar. He began to clean the counter and back shelf while keeping an eye on Kiyle as he ordered a couple more beers.

Jessíca joined him, and Kaiźer hid a smile by turning back to the wall that held the drinks. Turning back around, he filled two kegs of beer and slid them down the bar to where two men sat, looking into their empty mugs as if they had just learned their mothers had died. They looked up at him, and he raised his own tankard in salute. They cheered and grabbed the new beer mugs. Kaiźer chuckled at their renewed enthusiasm.

Just then, the waitress Kiyle had gotten away from the inevitable disaster came up, drawing his attention away from the boisterous patrons. He looked at her questioningly.

“Did you know that man, the one who came up to me?”

He smiled. “Yes, he’s an old friend. Why do you ask?”

Jessíca blushed and, with a shrug, spoke in a shy whisper. “It’s just that you were sitting with him and”—she paused in thought—“and I know how you don’t have a lot of friends. I was just wondering what you thought of him?”

He looked at her with a small smile. “What did you think of him?”

“I thought he was cute”—she covered her mouth to hide a smile—“and he seemed nice if only a bit flustered.” She took a breath and spoke suddenly. “Do you think he’ll visit me?”

Looking at him with big eyes, Jessíca looked as if she weren’t sure he’d say yes.

“He’ll visit you, I’m sure. Don’t you worry,” he said as he booped Jessíca on the nose. “Now, you need to get to work; I see a young man over there that needs a refill.”

Giggling, she took off, skipping towards the man he’d mentioned. Jessíca was a nice girl. She had a lot going for her. He knew she’d like Kiyle.

Turning away, he began to take inventory of what was left in stock. The night had been long, and the drink was running low. He would need to go into the back and grab a new Rum keg before he left, but just as he was writing down that they would also need the refill of wine and whiskey, a familiar scent assailed his senses. Smelling of peppermint underlain with cinnamon, it was quite extraordinary as it wafted past him. He knew whom it had once belonged to and as he looked around, he prayed he wasn’t imagining things.

He could see her in his mind’s eye, hair a strawberry red, eyes like diamonds, and skin like pure white marble. He didn’t need to look up to confirm the vision. She appeared, and even among the wide assortment of customers that the nightclub attracted, she stood out among the otherworlders and humans as a virtuoso. She was just as he remembered, despite her hair being tied back in a tight bun. She was all business at the moment, but as she sauntered through the club—passing the people on the open floor as they swayed together as one giant mass to the fiddle that was being played—the black dress she wore could not hide her feminine charm. She drew the eyes of multiple people, even a few females, as she passed. She was so similar yet so different from the lady he had known.

Stepping up beside him, Mike, the brothel’s head of staff, spoke over the music. “I’d be careful with that one; the boss is known to let her appetites get the better of her.”

Turning back to look at her, Kaiźer put her face with a name, the Lady Sin’ka. He felt a small twinge in his chest as Mike called her the boss. Abika had been very dependent herself, but she would never have thought of running a House of Sin. Sin’ka, with her fiery red hair, was a mirror image to his first love, and despite learning that she ran the Lover’ Bite, he was still awestruck. So far, fate had oppressed him, and now of all times, it had decided to grant his only wish and his only promise?

Looking back up to where Kiyle sat, a mug raised to his lips as he took a quick swig from the thick ale. Jessíca rested on his knee, while the old commander looking into her eyes. He answered something to she said and Jessíca laughed. She stood then and took his hand in hers. She pulled him to his feet and started to lead him through the tables. Kiyle shot a look over his shoulder and saw him watching. A wide grin had taken over his face, and Kaiźer gave him their old military salute from back during their days on the force. Two fingers against the center of his forehead, then the lips, before changing into a fist. It was finished with a flourish as he met that fist against his chest. Kiyle disappeared into the back hallway before responding, but Kaiźer knew he had recognized the old signal.

Just then, the scent of mint drew his attention once more. Sin’ka was coming his way. She looked around, catching the eyes of a few well-built men throughout the club. They returned her stare boldly, despite her scowl, which made him feel a twinge of anger as their lustful thoughts shouted in his mind’s eye. The men of today’s age had no respect towards women. It made him sick just thinking about how things had become.

As a few of them drew the courage to try to approach, he took his chance, heading towards the end of the bar. As he drew close, the men who saw him quickly changed direction—he smiled inwardly—they had a brain at least.

Coming to stand behind the redhead, he cleared his throat. “What can I get you, Miss Sin’ka?”

Glancing up, she looked into his eyes… and froze as if awestruck, not looking away for a long minute. Clearly staring, her mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. For a few long moments, nothing happened.

“Uh, Miss?”

She recovered and looked away, mumbling her request as she blushed. With a grin, Kaiźer turned to prepare her order. Most women had similar reactions to him. At first glance, most of the women called him beautiful. The first time he’d been told, it had felt weird, but after a time, he’d grown used to it. Now to have his boss look at him as she had, he knew he was in trouble. He was watching the past repeat itself before his very eyes. Abika had loved the taste of Genesteriana wine, so he wasn’t shocked at the request, but it still shook him to his core.

Now, where was… ah there! Reaching up, he grabbed the bottle of Genesteriana wine. Made from the vineyards of Genesteria on the Elder Mountain's foothills, it was an amber-colored sweet dessert wine. Made from sun-dried grapes of the varieties Xynisteri and Mavro, it was often a fortified wine, its production method often reaching alcohol levels around fifteen percent, even before fortification. It represented an ancient wine style documented back to the First Age. It had the distinction of being the world's oldest named wine still in production, with the name Genesteriana dating back to before this land had even been discovered.

Whistling softly, he grabbed a crystal glass from under the bar and, pouring a small portion, took a sip and let it swirl around before filling it and setting the crystal before Miss Sin’ka; but she wasn’t there.

He found himself looking into the gaze of someone he knew to be long dead.

With warm eyes and a more amiable smile, the lady he’d cared for raised her arms, reaching out to him, her fingers spread wide as if she expected him to come into her embrace. Her clothes were in tatters, and her face was matted in dried blood, her throat slit in a clean line, but she either didn’t know or didn’t care.

Shutting his eyes tight, he shook with the effort not to roar in anger. No! I watched you die; you aren’t real. His thoughts swam with the memory of the blade that had sliced through her flesh. In a red stain of severed skin, her blood had carved a crimson path through the air in reply to splash onto the surrounding area.

Forcing himself back to reality, he opened his eyes to see Miss. Sin’ka back where she had been. She was facing back out at the floor, watching the people as they danced to the frenzied music of the fiddle. He wondered what could have caused such a strong vision. Was there something he was missing here that he had yet to see? As he pondered what it could be, he reached out and tapped Sin’ka on the shoulder. She turned with a start but relaxed the instant she saw him. She murmured her thanks when he slid her drink towards her.

Glancing back at the dance floor, she looked at him with a quizzical glance.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Confused, he wondered if she had seen what he’d seen.

“The man with the red hair, he had it tied back… No?”

He shook his head, letting out a mental breath as she asked him. She had seen someone else. Not a vision then. She must have seen one of the patrons; most people in this region had red or burgundy colored hair, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. He asked her if she knew him, but she didn’t answer straight out, so he told her about the security orb in the back office, pointing her in the right direction. He felt like a fool instantly after. She owned the place for Christ’s sake. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

Thanking him, Sin’ka turned to go. When she was gone, he faced Mike. The man had been watching the exchange from the sidelines, and Kaiźer didn’t want the man to pester him. “I guess I’m not on her list of appetizers,” he said sarcastically.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Mike went and served a young man who looked barely old enough to drink despite his thick stature. Kaiźer could see his eyes swirled with a dark light. The man clearly had years of knowledge despite his age. His attire made him a death dealer by trade, and most of the men and women who took up such a profession lived hard lives. The two of them had something in common.

Coming back, Mike gave him the boy's order. Not surprising, the drink was simple, and after filling a mug with beer, Kaiźer slid the tankard down the bar to where the boy picked it up with a smile. He knew the kid would have control, but he would still make sure he only got one glass this night.

The last remaining hours of the night passed by quickly, with only a few mishaps. They were nothing he couldn’t handle, and soon enough, the night was at its end, and right before the break of dawn, he reached his apartment and, without changing, flopped into bed. He was asleep before his head even hit his pillow.

Sin’ka Finsaria hated blood! She grew faint at the sight of it, its color, its texture… and its flavor. She gagged at the very thought of it, or she had since her turning two hundred years prior. It was then with a lover’s embrace, the darkness had enveloped her.

Emerging from the memory of her birth, she fell back to reality. Looking out over the sea of lights, she remembered how the city before her had grown. It's busy streets bustling with people when before, but a few would travel its roads at a time.

During times of great distress, she has recently found herself searching for a place to think. She’d soon found a place within the royal castle of Nypheriam, a lone tower in the west wing. It faced the ocean and was the highest place in the city. She enjoyed the feeling of the wind in her hair and the fresh scent the air carried.

At times she found herself imagined that the drop was daring her to test its open void.

This night, she accepted the challenge, and with a whisper, the air moved with a hint of smoky leather. Mist curled around her as she flung her wings out to their full expanse. Standing slowly, Sin’ka looked out at the sea of buildings that carved curving lines and pools of darkness throughout the city. Drinking in the cold air of the night’s expanse, she leaped into the night with a snarl.

Too long had her thirst been denied! With no moon and no stars to light the night, shadows overlapped shadows, and only with keen eyes did Sin’ka see what she was looking for.

Dropping for the sky, she landed but a few feet from her prey. Silently she watched as the boy’s breath came heavy and labored. She listened to the youthful beat of his heart, and from deep inside her, the beast she hated with a passion rose to bare its fangs, which only made her own fangs elongate.

As she moved towards the young man, he stirred suddenly, rising to look around. His eyes were bright with awareness, and they fixed upon where she stood. Even within the darkness, she froze.

“Clary, Is that you?”

When he spoke, Sin’ka let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Then she noticed what she hadn’t before; a hint of liquor laced the young man’s breath.

Moving forward, she ran a hand through his curly hair. Doing so, she caressed his cheek with a slim finger as she whispered softly into his ear. His pupils dilated, and his heartbeat picked up before setteling down, letting her know he was hers.

Nuzzling his neck, she slowly pulled his head to the side and, straddling him, trailed her lips along the beating vein that was literally pulsing with his arousal. His breath came quicker, and with smooth precision, she sank her teeth into his neck and drew upon his lifeblood with slow pulls as she drank. As the young man relaxed, his heart slowed, and she fought to find satisfaction, slowly retracting her teeth and licking the wound. Her saliva activated his healing properties, and the evidence of her feast slowly faded.

She pulled away, looked into his eyes, and seeing the passion that resided deep within them, grew cold inside, for she couldn’t help but think, who can love a beast such as I? She stood up then and delved into his mind, whispering to him in a soft voice.

~You will remember nothing of this~ —as she spoke, she pulled a fistful of silver marks from her pocket and slipped them into his coat pocket— ~rest now and when you awake, take this and find your way home~

His eyes fluttered with sudden drowsiness, and he nodded sluggishly.

She let her control over him fade, and his eyes closed. He fell into a deep sleep, and watching him rest once again, Sin’ka was suddenly overcome with a strong sense of anger and sadness. Frustrated, she turned and walked to the ally's end, where the door to her destination lay hidden in the shadows.

As she approached, a phantom of her nightguard Hex appeared. “Welcome, Lady Sin’ka, you look just as beautiful as always.” He was always sweet, but more so when in a foul mood, and she could see he was irritated, although he wasn’t usually this upset.

“Hex, what troubles you?” she asked in a calm voice. His response came with a bite not directed at her, but she still felt its sting.

“I have had multiple attendants walk out drunk beyond words, and their words were not too kind themselves,” he huffed. “The humans these days have no honor.”

“I’m sure they don’t mean to insult you directly, my friend.”

Hex gave her a warm smile. “You are not like them, this I see. You are kind Lady Sin’ka. Are you here to stay, or did you want to simply talk to me?”

She looked over at the wall. “I came to stay.”

“Then, don’t let me keep you. Enjoy the entertainment your night shall reap, Lady Sin’ka.”

He stepped aside, and the door materialized, opening to reveal a blood-red light. Smoke leaked out, trailing around her legs like phantom serpents, and she stepped forward past their hazy grip to become enveloped by the spicy scent that came hand in hand with the Lover’ Bite. It was one of many such establishments she owned, but so far she had only used it to carry out her side hustles. She was moving through the brothel, listening to the beat of the music, when she heard a man speak. She was about to move on when the topic of his words caught her attention.

“I’d be careful with that one; the boss is known to let her appetites get the better of her.” She looked at whom it was who had spoken, but it was only Mike. Still, he was talking to a big man who looked new, and familiar… she had to guess he’d been staring. She wasn’t surprised. He was a big man, bigger than most but she had more pressing matters to attend to, so casting the big man from her mind, she headed to one of the back tables, sitting down to face the man she had come to meet. She eyed him carefully. Dressed in casual clothes, the man didn’t stand out much, but his face gave a different story. He had a scar across his left eye and had another x-shaped one carved into his left cheek. She’d known him since her turning, and as she had grown up, he had helped. However, on the side, he found her suitable clients that had… a fancy for the dramatic.

“Did you find what I requested?” she asked.

Sliding a file across the table, Ba’ile spoke so those around wouldn’t hear. “The client is upstairs. This is all I could gather on him, nothing out of the ordinary. He’s clean.”

“I’ll be the judge of that”—closing the file, she looked at him—“which room?”

Ba’ile slid a key across the table. “I know you’re not one to listen much, but I have to say it.”

She met his gaze when he didn’t let the keys go. “Then say it.”

Ba’ile let out a slow breath. “This business, it’s not one that can simply be shut down. You have sixty houses throughout the city, and if you still plan on leaving, you’re going to need to find someone to take over once you’re gone.”

Sin’ka looked at the table. He was correct, but she didn’t know anyone who would be able to keep such a path and not be killed. She had had to deal with men and women who thought a knife was better than subterfuge when it came to trying to get their money back after they either abused one of her girls or tried to walk away without paying their fee. She didn’t know anyone who could handle such.

Looking back up at Ba’ile, she put on a fake smile. “I know, and I will figure it out when the time comes.”

Picking up the keys, she winked and, without a backward glance, was gone. She hated this part of her life, but she had known the risks when she started. Men would never change; they all had their hidden fantasies that they didn’t want to tell their wives about; it was these men who came to her. Tonight, she would have to deal with a man who had an engrossment in role-playing. She was going to need a few drinks before she went up.

Walking towards the bar, she glanced around to meet the eyes of a couple young men. Scowling, she hoped they wouldn’t bother her, but even as she sat down to wait for Mike to arrive, she got the feeling it hadn’t worked.

“What can I get you, Miss. Sin’ka?”

It wasn’t Mike who spoke. The voice was too deep. In fact, it was deep enough to send ripples through her. Looking up, she found herself captured by the bluest of eyes. They danced with specks of silver and green while alongside them, red streaks mixed to form and complement the dreamiest eyes she’d ever seen. She found herself drowning in their depths; it was the man she’d seen earlier. The one who’d been with Mike!

“Uh, Miss…?”

With a start, she crashed back to reality. Looking down, she blushed as it dawned on her that she had been staring. She felt like a little girl after her first kiss. He was so gorgeous and so… familiar. Looking back into those eyes of his, she drew in a quick breath.

“Genesteriana wine…please.”

He turned away, and she let her breath out slowly. One of the side effects of being one of the shadow folk—even if not by heritage—was that her senses were enhanced to the extreme. She had to see everything, hear everything, and she missed nothing unless she forced her mind to shut it out. With this man before her, she struggled not to watch the broad muscles of his back as he moved around. Therefore, turning away from the bar, she fought to clear her mind of him, instead taking in the sweat and hormones from the open floor while at the same time listening to men as they flirted with her girls. Awe damn, those things only made her mind race even more! Looking up at the lights, she sharpened her sight to take in the ultraviolet rays as they bathed the writhing bodies flowing as one on the open floor. It, mixed with the warm heat of the countless humans and otherworlders, stirred the fresh blood in her veins. Before the heat that was building in her core grew to great, she shut everything out. She needed to stop thinking, before she did something she would regret in the morning! She closed her eyes and shuttered her senses. She shut out the music, and she shut out the people. She shut it all out and only paid attention to the rise and fall of her own chest. Her heart hadn’t beat for two centuries, and yet she felt more as a vampire than she had as a human.

Nevertheless, as she sat there, in her own world, a voice called her name. All at once, she lost her concentration, and everything stopped dead. She looked up into two cold eyes, eyes she’d hoped to never see again.

Carved like alabaster, his face held a beauty immune to time. His hair stood red against the black of his clothes. Moreover, his lips were as pale as an ocean under a grey sky. And to make matters worse, in his hand, a blade shone with a deathly light, countering the beauty before her. Moreover, as his lips curved to form a cruel smile, he brought that blade up and drew it across the red flesh of his lips, piercing the skin. At that moment, she knew it wouldn’t matter if that blade was to be her corruption once again. Taking slow steps towards her, the man who’d turned her into the monster she was today held the knife out, tip dripping crimson, his lips moving to form one word.

“Drink…”

It came out as a whisper, touching her mind like a shadow of its former self. She shivered and closed her eyes, wishing for her creator to disappear.

Just then, a tap on her shoulder made her turn with a start. She held her breath as she expected to find Julian there, but it was only the bartender with the gorgeous eyes. She tried not to Let her relief show too much.

“Here’s your drink, miss.” Smiling, he slid the glass of Genesteriana wine in front of her. Murmuring her thanks, she lifted the wine to her lips as she turned to confront her creator. However, he was nowhere to be seen. Turning back to face the bar, she set the glass down and, after glancing at his nametag, asked Kaiźer if he’d seen a red-haired man with pale skin and a black suit come into the brothel.

“I’m afraid not ma’am, is he by chance a friend of yours?”

“Oh, heavens, no! Just a…”—she hesitated for a second—“an old acquaintance of mine.”

Flicking a thumb over his shoulder, Kaiźer pointed behind himself to where a surveillance torch hung. “But if you wish to know where he went, you’re welcome to check the footage in the back office. You do know the place, Miss. Sin’ka?”

“I do indeed. Thank you, Mr. Kaiźer, and quit calling me Miss. I’m not your mother.” Picking up her drink, she circled her way to the back.

Once she reached the hallway that led to her office, she sank into its shadowy embrace, becoming wrapped in not just its darkness but in its past sins as well. Opening the office door, she flowed from the hall's black shade into the soft grip of the small room’s single lamp. The circular chamber lit with a single torch, and in the center of the room was an enormous mahogany desk. Upon it sat a silver orb of clear glass. Alongside it was an assortment of papers and folders, but she ignored those. Sitting gracefully in the chair behind the desk and laying her free hand atop the glowing sphere as she nursed her wine. She summoned the footage she needed.

Sorting the last couple of hours, she searched the mental images that rushed to the surface. She finally found the desired footage; and focused all her attention on the torch, which hung behind the bar. However, upon seeing the images thrown her way, she lost her hold on her glass, and it fell and shattered against the lush carpet.

Where Julian had stood before her, the camera showed nothing. No one was there; had she imagined it then? If so, why? It has been years since he’d crossed her mind. Why now? Her thoughts swam as she sat back in the chair and stared at the low ceiling. She needed to find out what had happened to him.