The Whisper of the Nightingale

Chapter 49: Recognition

Javelin kept his eyes firmly fixed on Singer's black figure.

'Turn,' he found himself thinking, as his stare became increasingly intense. 'Turn and look at me. . . .'

As if Singer had heard him, her head snapped around and locked onto Javelin. For a brief moment, an intense feeling of danger washed over him, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Singer indifferently turned away and once again began talking to the first-row assassin standing in front of her.

"Are you coming, Javelin?" called the twins from half-way up the stands.

Javelin sighed and finally turned to leave. Oddly enough, he had felt less bothered by Singer's bloodthirsty stare, than by her subsequent disregard. With Martin's arm around his shoulders, Javelin and the twins left the Combat Abyss arena.

The journey back to Sky Academy was a silent one; despite the twin's attempts to keep up some form of conversation, no subject lasted more than a few sentences. Javelin didn't feel like sharing what he had experienced at the Abyss with his friends - too little of it made any sense - and he had little space for other thoughts. Why did Singer make him think of Raven Nightingale? And, as she couldn't possibly be Raven Nightingale, why did the woman feel so familiar? In his brief life, Javelin had only met a handful of female martial spiritualists and even fewer fit Singer's cultivation level and build.

Once back in his dorm room, Javelin was still so confounded by what he had experienced that he barely registered the fact that his roommate had yet to return. With a loud *thump*, Javelin collapsed face down on his bed. In his mind, hundreds of questions floated around in circles, but no reasonable answers were found. Eventually, Javelin fell asleep.

It was winter. It had to be, cause the snow almost reached my knees and the sun's light was too weak to give any real warmth. The sound of crunching snow caught my attention and I looked up. A woman with a wild beauty was walking towards me, wearing way too little clothes for the winter day - she always wore too little. . . .

Usually she would be so cold towards me - colder than the snow now surrounding me - but at that moment she was smiling. I liked her smile; it made the thin scar running down her cheek seem less vicious.

But the smile didn't last long. The sky darkened above her and she suddenly looked sad, so very sad. I tried to embrace her, but she effortlessly slipped out of my reach. Did she always have to be so elusive? Before I know it, she's turned her back to me and left.

In my heart I just knew that . . . that was it; it was over before it ever really began.

In his bed, Javelin groaned and for a brief moment his eyes flickered open. He knew he'd been dreaming, but before he could try to remember what he dreamed about, his consciousness faded and he fell asleep yet again. This time, he slumbered too deeply to dream anything at all.

Meanwhile, as Javelin and the twins had returned to the Academy and their waiting beds, Raven had instead accompanied the ninth ranked assassin, the oddly charming Limpkin, to the renowned Assassin Guild.

She had approached him after her first bout at the Abyss, asking about where she might find employment for their . . . peculiar line of work, and he had merrily agreed to bring her to his guild. "If you prove yourself worthy," he had added jokingly, as if being placed 45th in the assassin's ranking wasn't enough.

However, Raven didn't mind fighting a bit more - it was after all a splendid opportunity for her to train with her entire cultivation unlocked. As it turned out, she had been quite pleasantly surprised by her own stamina. Although Raven's spirit core was smaller and a bit weaker than her opponents', her 373 spirit connections more than made up for it, tenacity wise. It was like a river supplying a small basin; as long as you don't empty it all in one go, there would always plenty of water available.