Now hollow and jaded, a once proud and piercing gaze is reflected from a dagger. Sallow skin and dark rings entomb the boy’s dulled golden-blue eyes.

Tearing them from his sorry state, the boy crept towards an ostentatious bed, careful not to make the oak floorboards creak. Reaching the mattress, the youth forced a gold-laced pillow over the slumbering man’s mouth and plunged a dagger into his jugular.

The aged man tried to shout, but only a muffled whimper and slow gurgling escaped. Yet, in a final, fleeting act of defiance, the old man wrestled away the cushion covering his face. His steely gray eyes first showed shock and then grim defiance.

You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes, especially just before one dies. Most stare back at you in fear, their bodies stiff, face painted in tears. Some, like this man soon to die, stare back in rage and resentment, resolved to live, to kill, or at least to try. Fewer still look back in resignation, understanding they can do nothing to change their fate. Knowing they should cherish their last moments before it's too late. Even fewer have eyes like us… those that should never be given trust.

Shaking his head to clear any morbid thoughts, the boy closed the man's eyes and whispered a prayer.

♫"I give myself to the Lady of Water."

"Please forgive me for my sin of slaughter."

"I will gladly pay your toll,"

"So please be a shepherd for this man's poor soul."♫

'I pray that you still live, Lady Yivlä.'

*... Why do you still pray? She’ll never answer.*

‘… I suppose it helps me cope, to feel human.’

*Hmph, what a pointless sentiment. Well, it's good to know that you can serenade the enemy with useless rhymes if we ever get caught.* The feminine voice taunted.

'It's one of my many talents. Another of which is putting up with you.'

Oblivious to the boy’s internal monologue, Mr. Miller lay in his bed. Illuminated by the moon, his white beard and hair juxtaposed the now crimson sheets, making him look strangely ethereal, at peace...

'May he meet a better ending in his next life.'

With a softened sigh, the boy's eyes once again glazed over. Returning to his usual professionalism, he erased his presence, stowed his knife, and clambered out the window from which he entered. Leaving the lustrous estates of Solbrook’s Northern Borough behind, the figure stalked towards the billowing factories and fetid slums across the river.

Dipping between dark and dank alleyways, the boy felt a rare, delicate breeze caress his cheeks. Pausing, the youth stared skywards, watching the wind part the polluted air obscuring the heavens.

'At least the moon is beautiful tonight.'

Under the moon's brief luminance, the boy pulled a sticky pulsating black ball from his jacket. If anyone were nearby, they would surely gag from the foul stench, but the boy casually put it into his mouth and swallowed it with a grimace. With its consumption, the putrid smell of decaying flesh slowly dissipated; the only testament to the orb's existence was a small ebony tear that was quickly wiped away.

*Ahh, delicious.*

With a slight tremor and softened steps, the boy continued his journey until his arrival at the back of an unassuming noodle shop.

"Thump … Thump Thump … Thump … Thump Thump Thump"

The door's aged but sturdy sliding panel briefly opened before a short, portly, middle-aged man opened the door with a smile.

Gesturing with his hand, the slightly balding red-haired man beckoned the boy inside. "Come in, come in, it's good to see you squirt. How are ya?"

Sighing, the boy retorted in a monotone voice, "Just splendid, Sam. Who wouldn't be thrilled to meet your charming self in a shady alleyway in the dead of night."

A low and jolly laugh escaped the portly man's lips. "I'm glad someone feels that way. Also, Mer, it's just us here, so there's no need to use our cover names. Come, take a seat and tell me about your mission."

While Mer updated Theo, Sam’s real name, on his mission, the odd pair sat down and enjoyed some green tea, their dim figures illuminated by a sole magical lamp.

"You did well, Mer."

Grabbing a small pouch, the redhead tossed it toward the hooded boy.

"Treat your sister to a nice meal, will ya lad. Oh, and take this."

With a slightly nervous, maybe even guilty look, Theo pulled out a sealed envelope from his overcoat and passed it along the table.

Quickly stuffing the letter into his jacket, Mer got up to leave.

"Thank you, Theo. I better get going now. Look after yourself."

"You too, and, uhh, watch out… I think HE might suspect something."

Upon hearing this, the hooded figure briefly paused before leaving and resuming his walk through the slums.

'I hope Theo doesn't suffer more because of me. He's been through enough.'

*Guilt won’t help you now; however, he does have his uses, and the snacks he supplies are certainly to diiee for…*

'...'

Approaching a small, dilapidated bamboo hut, Mer stopped, pulled down his hood, stuffed his tools deep within his bag, and tried to tidy up.

Knocking on a crooked door, he waited with a grin.

Like always, Mer's sister, still half asleep, unlocked the door and welcomed him with a gentle smile. The aroma of roasting vegetables and dampness permeated the air.

For a brief moment, the boy peered into the girl's eyes, looking past their bubbly blue exterior to gaze into a well of sorrow.

The girl was the first to break the silence.

"It's good to have you home. I've made some potato and leek soup inside. I'll heat it up. Be sure to eat lots; you look awful."

Mer ruffled his sister's hair in mock hurt, causing her to pout.

"You wound me so. I look as handsome as ever, but thank you for the meal. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Hey, don't mess up my hair, Mer… Ahh, whatever, I'm going back to bed soon anyway, so it doesn't matter. How was work?"

"You know, the same old boring stuff, helping Sam out with the shop. Some fool got too drunk again and started a fight with another customer. Fortunately, neither were cultivators this time, so no real damage was done."

*Oh, wow, she seems soo convinced.* The voice drawled.

'More convinced than I am of your supposed goodwill...'

*I told you, I’m here to help you… To restore y’

‘Shut it.’

*If that’s what you desire, so be it.*

Ema shoot Mer a quizzical look but said nothing more. "So, when is your next day off, brother?"

"If it were up to the boss, not before I'm dead, but Sam's managed to butter him up enough to get me a day off next week, so we can go around the city together. Your oh-so-generous brother will even treat you to lunch at Honeyed Valley."

As Ema recounted the local gossip and talked about her day working at Mrs. Smith's restaurant, the already small candle slowly burnt out.

"Hmm, it's almost sunrise, brother; you should go to bed, so you aren't too tired tomorrow."

"Ahh, as always, you are right missy. Goodnight, and sweet dreams."

Although Mer knew they probably won't be...

For either of them.