Emeral In Shadow

The Umbra Masquerade (PART 1)[#10]

Evelien let the bath run cold that night, but nothing could wipe the mental stink Art left upon her.
She considered clipping that ear off, but it probably wouldn't hurt Art in any way.
When this was all over, she definitely was going to remove Art from the scene. Of living. She'd kill him, put plainly.
Gustaaf knocked on the washroom door. He wasn't supposed to be standing, lest his leg stitching start bleeding again, but he never listened to her whenever she told him to rest regardless of how close to death he was.
Evelien didn't have the strength to shout at him to go back to bed anyway.
"...You okay?" He said from behind the door.
This let Evelien know that he was truly worried about her, since pretty much every drop of empathy in his body had been wrung out of him by his profession.
"No." The water was ice cold at this point. She remembered the last week well;
Gustaaf had been dumped off on her doorstep, barely stitched up and all sliced up and frazzled.
Due to the severity of his injury, Evelien had to introduce him to her parents. She played it off as him being a friend from school, and him getting into a deadly mishap with a guard who mistook him for a criminal.
Her parents took the bluff, and had let her stay home from school most days to tend to his wounds.
"I, uh, made soup." Gustaaf said awkwardly.
This struck Evelien as especially odd. He's usually too confident to be awkward.
He also did not cook. Well, Besides sewer rat and street rat, which he stubbornly insisted had their own tastes.
"Okay...?" Evelien sighed. She wouldn't be falling asleep to drown in the tub today.
She got out, hair flat and dripping "One moment, Gustaaf," and threw on the essentials and a long pale green nightgown.
She reached down, wetting the end of her gown's sleeve, to drain the water.
She unlocked and opened the washroom door, seeing Gustaaf leaned against the hallway wall a few steps away.
He wore a simple black shirt and loose-fitting trouser shorts. Even from the front, you could see the intense stitching on the back of his leg. He straightened, and beckoned Evelien to the kitchen, on the other end of the short wooden hallway. Each step made the old wood flooring creak.
As Evelien stepped into the kitchen; a warm room with peeling yellow walls, pots hanging from the ceiling over a deep sink basin which stood beside a wood-fired stove which stood beside a small wood table; She could smell the soup Gustaaf had cooked up. Savory, hints of sour.
"Vinegar and Tater' soup. Threw some meat and spices in for flavor. Used a bit of your cream too." He served two bowls of the soup, setting them down at the table. He pulled two stools out, and set out spoons for the both of them.
Evelien wasn't really hungry, well, not at all hungry. But she'd struggle through a bowl for Gustaaf. She bowed to give a brief thanks for the food, then spooned out some of the steaming and rich broth.
They ate in silence together, Evelien blowing on each spoonful to cool it down while Gustaaf drank it straight out of the bowl, chewing on any solids that hit his mouth. He paused eating for a moment wiping his mouth with a checkered handkerchief, eyes trained softly on Evelien. It looked like he had something to ask or say.
"What?" Evelien asked, spoon held halfway to her lips,
"You haven't yet told me what the message was." He said, now setting down the handkerchief on the table.
"I told you I'd let you know when I'm ready." Evelien said, pushing the bowl aside. Suddenly it felt more like a bribe than sustenance.
"That was midday. It's practically midnight now. I understand Art is a slimy fool, and yes I hope to be able to remove him from our dealings soon, but I need time to think before we go forward with this." Gustaaf said,
"Since when did you ever actually think before a job, Gustaaf? It always seems like you try to be reckless and rush into each fight." Evelien crossed her arms on the table, "It's childish, quite frankly."
Gustaaf sighed impatiently, "Yes, well, this time it's the literal Queen of Emeral we are talking about here."
Gustaaf pushed his bowl aside now, "Also, how does withholding this absolutely crucial information help me think things through?"
Evelien shook her head, "Do you think about what'd happen if you died? Whose lives you'd impact?"
"Not many, considering I'm a deadbeat assassin." He said,
Evelien smacked her hand against the table hard enough to make a hard thud.
"All I want out of you is for you to say 'Yes Evelien, I won't go out and try to kill myself on the daily through various horrible means'!"
"And then you'll tell me the message?" Gustaaf asked,
Evelien groaned in frustration and got up from the table. Which prompted Gustaaf to get up to follow her as she left the kitchen to her room.
Gustaaf stood in the doorway to give Evelien some space as she threw herself onto her bed, her hair falling spread out around her head.
"Okay, I got it. I'll listen, and not run straight into jobs." He sighed, "I will need you to do some recon work for each job as well, if I am to do it though."
Evelien gave him a thumbs up, not responding. She still was ticked off at him, but at least she got him to listen.
"Masquerade ball at Palace tomorrow, costume's at tailor, we get in. Got it-? Good." She said quickly and clearly, then shooed Gustaaf off with quick hand wave.
Gustaaf stepped backwards out of Evelien's room, closing the door gently behind him.
After cleaning up the dishes from their dinner, leaving the soup pot on the stove to simmer, Gustaaf went out to the front of the house.
He walked out a few steps from the house onto the small tributary of a road it was by.
Surveying the wall, he quickly found a few bricks worn and chipped by rain. Footholds.
He clambered onto the roof of Evelien's house, leg straining against it's stitching as he pulled himself up over the thick brown clay roofing onto his stomach.
The roof was cool to the touch, bathed white in the mild moonlight. He looked around the sleeping city; Rows and rows of the same brown tile roofing persisted down half the city, up to the Palace way off on the far end of the city. These were the Bramblehaven houses and businesses, those who worked in manual labor and generally considered to be 'middle class'
The other half of the city, opposite of the brown roofs of Bramblehaven and starting near the middle-left of Emeral up to the Palace. had dark blue tiled roofs, the homes of those in the Thrushhome district.
Many nights, the nightlife of Emeral was busy and bright. Tonight, however, it was quiet. Hushed. Like the kingdom knew the grief that was about to be struck upon it.
A paper fluttered in the wind. Gustaaf quickly jumped up to grab it, using his knife to skewer it before it flew away.
He lowered it down, one and on it as he sheathed his blade and then holding it flat
out to read it.
The Ragged Assassin.
A young man, with eyes of false-emerald green and ashy black hair, is wanted dead or alive by the Emeral Internal Guard Force. He is known to be heavily injured at last sighting.
A reward of thirty-two smaras is owed to the slayer or finder of the murderer.
Very dangerous, dispatch quickly and with support if possible.
Information, depending on how important and truthful it turns out to be, will be rewarded accordingly.
Please report to Daniel Aderdonk, guard general, for any above reason.
A rough sketch of Gustaaf was placed below the text. It looked more of a wild animal then a man, his hair frayed and singed, eyes black and dark with green rings within that abyss, limbs bloodied, sharp, and claw-like.
Gustaaf, after reading it, gently ripped it in half and let it fly away on the soft midnight breeze.
Gustaaf took another few moments to enjoy the night, before noticing a thick exhaustion settling over his head that made his eyelids heavy. He lowered himself off the roof, and headed inside.
He entered into a small multipurpose room, one of three rooms in the hallway, and fell sleepily onto a cot that Evelien had set up for him the night she told her parents about him.
He had dreamless sleep that night.
Soon, he'd regret not cherishing such peaceful rest.
---
The next day Gustaaf was shaken awake by Evelien, who wore her simple light green frock, the color of a desert succulent.
"Wakey-wakey, Gustaaf. We got to go get those costumes. It's already near noon." She said gently.