• In a flash it was over and hot blood spilled onto her wrists as she pulled them away from the man, watching his old dim brown eyes glass over. Calmly she wiped the dagger on his shirt, slipping it back into its sheathe on her belt as she looked down at him through long lashed crimson eyes. Flecks of blood stained her porcelain features, his whispy white hair and more was spreading from where it had hit the chest of her shadowy soft leather garb, the garb of an assassin. The body did not twitch or move, it had done enough of that as he’d attempted to evade her, in vain of course. With a cruel grin she walked to the window, slipping out of it and leaving the corpse behind her. A much messier job than she preferred, but it mattered not, it was done, and that’s what counted. Now she could get paid.

    The morning was bright and something urged her to return to the scene of her carnage last night, though she could not say what. Into the room she slipped, silent as a spirit as usual, and looking around curiously until she spotted a sheet covered form laying atop a large bloodstain, her victim of last night…somehow…the old man seemed…bigger today. Shrugging she kneeled beside him and her hand went to the sheet. Namea’s eyes narrowed, that hand was trembling…her hand, though it had no reason to, was trembling like mad. Gripping the sheet she felt her throat go dry, her body stiffening as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was not right. Finally she pulled the sheet back, but instead of dead brown eyes staring at her, they were dead blue eyes, instead of a wiry old man, there lay a huge lean giant of a man, noble lovely face stony in death, yet somehow staring at her accusingly, the black skull choker around his neck gleaming with his blood as the slit she’d made from ear to ear gaped almost like a sick smile at her. She trembled, backed away, stumbled and fell to her behind as the corpse shook itself and began to rise. Ivan Von Gaunt, staring at her accusingly, pointing, telling her that she’d killed him, and hating her for it.

    “No…no…it…wasn’t me….” He pointed at her again, taking a step forward. “It’s not..My fault….” Another step. “Please…Ivan…I…You died…you killed yourself because of me….” A nod, then a step towards her. “I…did this…It’s my fault….It’s..all….My..fault!!” Slowly he raised the dull black cross she’d been carrying with her in her belt, raised it to destroy her, and she clenched her eyes shut, screaming.




    {Mea, Mea!!} Came Ookami’s cry in her mind as the cat leapt up onto the tiny woman’s chest, her tossing unable to dislodge him as she lay, her head swinging back and forth, her legs kicking as her arms trembled as it trying to lift a huge weight from herself. A gasp tore itself from her throat and she shuddered beneath him, crying out once more.

    “It’s my fault…all my fault!!” Her eyes clenched tighter shut and tears leaked from the corners as Ookami’s rough feline tongue rasped her face.

    {Mea, Mea…It’s alright…nothing is your fault…I am here…} He toned gently into her mind, attempting to comfort or wake her. Unable to he shifted into the form of a black dragon, flying to the ceiling before shifting back and letting himself fall to land on her flat stomach.

    As intended, it woke her and she shot to a sitting position, her hair falling around her like a black waterfall as bits of it covered her face. Her tiny body still shook uncontrollably, but at least now she was awake. “I…” she panted, looking around through wide, frantic eyes. “A…dream….” Those eyes settled on the feline now staring worriedly up at her from her lap. “Ookami…” Slowly she took him up into her arms and held him close, her face buried in the black fur as tears dropped onto it. “It’s…my fault…”

    The shade mewed gently at her, nuzzling her forehead as she trembled, trying to gain her courage back to face the day. His thoughts flowed into hers, reading her, seeing the nightmare for himself and nodding. The Namea in the nightmare was a woman he did not know, the Namea of four years ago, a heartless killer who had thought nothing of anyone but herself and killed wantonly for gold or the thrill of it, yet even then she had been noble enough to protect the innocent. {Of course it’s not your fault!} came his adamant disagreement. {Ivan made his choice with our without you…if anything, you prolonged that decision by loving him as no one else ever had, not even his first wife.}

    “If I’d done that good of a job…he’d be here with me…I’d be waking up beside him each morning…”

    {You weren’t waking up beside him each morning even when he was alive…He was seldom here, and it caused you pain…}

    She nodded and sighed. “Perhaps..you’re right…”

    Smugly the cat also nodded, as if to say “Aren’t I always?” and jumped from the bed, beckoning with his head towards the bathroom for her to get refreshed for the day.

    Standing she made her way over to the wardrobe which stood against one wall of her room, taking from it one of many identical outfits, her usual leather assassin’s garb. The dream returned to her and she replaced the garment with disgust, unable to bring herself to wear it. Instead she removed black jeans and a dark red long sleeved shirt, her weapons belts coming next along with clean undergarments before she set it all on the counter of the bathingroom.

    To the floor puddled a shirt that went to her calves almost, large and black, it had belonged to Ivan and she kicked it disdainfully before turning on the water, slipping her underwear off and standing before the mirror a moment. Her body was a familiar sight to her, and though she did not particularly enjoy the view, she was not disgusted by it either. Slender and long of limb she stood, pale as snow with old pink scars crossing much of her muscular form. Her hair flowed to her calves in a black sheet, slightly disarrayed from sleep. Holding up tiny hands she looked down at them before slipping herself into the hot bathtub.

    Steam rose as she lay, her eyes distant and vague while the sponge moved over her body automatically controlled by her left hand. Standing she turned on the showerhead and rinsed soap from her body, taking the time to wash her hair, though it was a hassle. Finally clean, and feeling a bit more like herself she emerged from the cloud of steam wrapped in a thick black towel pulling her hair over her shoulder to brush and braid it before dressing and and completing the outfit with her usual accessories, five rings in each ear with an extra stud in the left, a small pendant that looked like cherries carved from precious stones, an unadorned silver band that encircled her right ring finger, and a thin chain that held a bloodred stone and hung about her right wrist. Then, brushing her teeth and belting on her weapons she nodded to the cat as he jumped to her shoulder and she walked barefoot into the Bloodlust.

    This early in the morning there was no one in the bar, and she was thankful as she slipped behind the bar and took her pineapple juice from the fridge, sipping it as her eyes scanned the room. A noise alerted her and she turned to see the lithe form of Ikaru standing worriedly near her.

    “Usually you would have seen or smelled me long before now..” Came her friends soft voice. “Are you…alright?”

    At five foot three Ikaru was barely taller than Namea, three inches to be exact, and with her own long black braid and red eyes she looked as though she could be the assassin’s sister, and in their hearts, they were.

    “I had a disturbing dream…” she replied honestly, unafraid to share with the woman who’d been there for her so long. Haltingly, and painfully she described the dream, down to the little details and looked down when she was finished as Ikaru’s face was pursed in thought.

    “I believe…that you’re guilty, because you’ve moved on…when you should not be. Ivan made his choice…and your heart could not stay empty forever…” Strong vampiric arms wrapped around Namea’s shoulders as Ikaru pulled her into a gentle hug. “My friend, you cannot hope to go on if you’re tethered to the past…”


    Closing her eyes, Namea nodded as she took in the familiar scent of the vampire fox, her arms resting loosely around the other woman’s waist as something warm rasped her cheek, the tongue of a cat sized bronze dragon hovering a few inches from her. Ana, Ikaru’s companion and often called her “daughter” with affection.

    “Mother is right, You are a noble person and have no cause to feel guilt for actions you did not intentionally commit Miss Namea.”

    “Ana, as usual, your mother heals my soul, while you unfog my mind, thank you both.” Came the assassin’s soft reply as she reached out and stroked the dragon’s chin softly.

    Ookami hovered near in his own dragon form, nodding, and blushing whenever his eyes rested on the lovely bronze. {See Mea, you just need to listen to us more often, Okay? We’ll never leave you.}

    Hearing that, Namea smiled finally, hugging Ikaru tightly. “Then I shall always try and remember to think of what I have, rather than what I’ve lost…because what I have is a hell of a lot in the forms of you guys.”

    Ikaru let go and smiled as strong arms enfolded Namea from behind and someone rested their chin atop her head. “Silly.” Came a familiar voice as Sevvy squeezed her close for a brief moment. “You’re ours, and we’re not letting you go…who would cook for the bar if not for you and me? After all, we’re the only ones who do it right.” Chuckling he kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her as he held on.

    A shadow separated itself from the wall across from them, materializing into Liekt in his humanoid form and he walked up, knocking on Namea’s head with his fist. “I’m hungry.”

    “Ruin the moment!” Ikaru growled at him, rolling her eyes.

    “Some moments need to be ruined if they go on too long.” Liekt shot back, winking to Namea.

    “Who wants to eat?” the assassin asked, smiling at her family. Gods, it was good to be her.