The ocean air called to Igni the way candlelight beckoned a moth. It was a distant call, one he felt deep within himself yet could not place where from within. It ultimately didn’t matter; he was a being of instinct. Unlike the mortals of the planes Sahīleth or even Khabēht, he didn’t wonder this or wonder that. If it was what he desired within the depths of his being, he understood it as such and did not question his nature.

Cool wind brushed his long silver-white locks in his face. He slipped lanky arms into his sleeves, huddling slightly into his coat. Typically, such weather was unpleasant but this. This was as close to his true sanctuary as he would ever find in the waking world. This was peace. True, familiar peace.

A despondent sigh escaped him. He had spent enough time idling, his stomach was full. It was time to return to work.

He moved to stand, letting his long, lithe body unfurl from its position on the grass. His tongue, black and forked akin to a snake’s, flickered out to taste the sea air one last time for the day. A slight shiver ran through him. It was beautiful.

Beautiful…

The word always brought a sense of sadness to his consciousness. He only sometimes wished he knew why.

Ah, well.

Turning from the beauty of the glistening dark ocean in the distance, he stepped gracefully around blood-soaked grass and remaining severed limbs with a wide smile on his face. It was an uncanny smile, and he knew this by heart; two of his three companions tensed the moment they saw it. Even after all this time, he still managed to frighten them—and he was wearing his blindfold this time.

“Are you satisfied, darī?” a short woman, Qora, asked, her bright lime eyes flashing in the darkness of the plane. Her high-pitched voice sounded a bit too eager.

"Ah,” he hummed, “it’ll do fer now.” He brought a simple white and blue mask from within his sleeve and placed it over his blindfold. His companions relaxed by a margin.

They each put masks over their faces as if his action was their cue. The woman’s was that of a gnat, one man’s was that of a sloth, and the second man’s was a crab.

“Time to get to work,” his Sloth companion, Zakir, sighed, stretching his arms behind his back. “Where to first, Igni?”

“Akaéng. We gotta see the Fly.”

“Ugh. I hate him,” the woman griped, dashing to Igni’s side as he walked ahead. “He just had to settle in that hole. Suitable for him, but...” Her face twisted in disgust.

Ignoring her, Igni looked at the overcast sky. His tongue flickered out; he could taste that it was going to rain. “We gotta be fast, ’kay? Keep up.”

Instead of waiting for a response, he placed his index finger out as if to poke something and pushed. The air warped in front of him, bending as he moved forward. After a moment of this, he lowered his hand when the scenery also warped, bending and fading until they stood in an entirely different location. The pleasant ocean smell was replaced with that of a landlocked, heavily populated city.

He swiftly moved ahead with the jūryovā technique, moving so quickly, he seemed to fly. Barely audible whisking sounds indicated his companions were behind him. As they ran, he mentally approximated how long it would take for them to accomplish their mission.

He knew where they were, and he didn’t need to flick his tongue out to taste the air to know for sure. This early night, the central city of Faifeleth—The Feast, as some called it—was alight with activity, restless and excited as the citizens prepared for Jonjae-Bū, The Festival That Doesn’t Exist. He and his companions had plenty of cover for their activities, not that they needed much.

As long as no one messed up or did anything stupid, they should be done in maybe—maybe—two hours or less.

His eyes tightened as he considered a certain companion behind him.

Shouldn’t be too hard.

They moved with haste, faster than the average faifethi eye could see. Traveling close to verdant when possible, they avoided the heavily lit streets and skittered atop tiled walls without making a sound. Now and then, they kept low and in the shadows when a judicial soldier or unit passed through. While far from the Jancitei, the Court of Feasts where nobility and then two powerful faifethi royalty resided, they couldn’t afford to be careless. Not tonight of all nights, not when The Feast was already alert from two recent terrorist attacks just days before Jonjae-Bū.

When Igni began to slow, he sensed his companions’ guard lower. He glanced back at them as they neared their first destination. “What’cha low’rin’ yer guard fer?” he asked softly.

When there wasn’t a response save for at least one shrug, he sighed and looked forward again.

Further ahead, the dirt street met rows of buildings on each side. Each building bore a red roof, and as his tongue flicked out, he internally sighed. To be fair, he didn’t care for Akaéng, either.

They didn’t have to bother with remaining clandestine here, and they were spotted immediately as they exited the verdant of the nearby woods. One person immediately ran off, likely to alert someone of their presence, but Igni wasn’t bothered.

“Ew. You smell that?” Qora said with disgust.

“No, I don’t. And don’t tell me what it is,” ’Aras, his Crab companion, said quickly. “Just…don’t.”

As the woman went on about the smell of urine and feces Igni briefly closed his eyes to the sound of a disgusted groan before walking ahead.

The smells were only emitting from places before the district itself, corners and the bases of trees. Otherwise, if he were to be honest, the district itself bore a decent appearance. However. It was night, and that meant the Red-Light District was in business. Women were half-dressed with their bosoms exposed in ways Igni would consider unnecessary, hanging out the windows and doorways and flaunting their endowments. Men were no better, really, and Igni would rather not see their loins dressed up in provocative ways.

“Spotted him.” Zakir’s finger in Igni’s lower view pointed to a wide building with three tiered floors.

Of the many men standing in its wide, open doorway, only one faced the outdoors. Arms crossed and wearing a knowing smirk with long brown hair held in a low ponytail, the man dressed in the simple colors of black and grey with shimmering green and blue accents. To anyone else, this wouldn’t mean anything. To Igni and his companions, the man was none other than the Fly.

As they approached, people in the streets gave them a wide berth. It didn’t seem to be a conscious thing, as most weren’t even looking in their direction, too busy nearing buildings or window-shopping with their leering eyes fixated on choice locations.

“Welcome, Snake.” The man’s eyes wandered to Igni’s companions. “Gnat, Crab, Sloth,” he said with a nod.

“Just get out of my way,” said Qora, and she tried to push past him to enter the building.

A muscular arm blocked her way. The Fly didn’t even look at her. “Sad to see you’ve come along, Gnat.”

“Why you—”

“You don’t know where you’re going.” Grey orbs steeled as they focused on her. “I’d rather you not disturb my patrons and employees.”

She scowled, the twisting of her face slightly visible beneath her mask. “Fuck you. I’ll do what I damn please, Fly.”

“Koī, koī,” Igni slipped his hands into his sleeves. “This’s Fly’s territory. Respect it, Gnat.”

With a soft humph, her whole body deflated. “Alright, darī…”

The Fly made a sound of thanks, nodding his head towards Igni, then lowered his arm and turned around. “Follow me.”

He brought them inside, and Igni took his time straggling behind. When he could, he would peek into whatever door was open out of idle curiosity, his tongue slipping out on its own. There was nothing of interest, as the rooms were “public” and consisted of entertainers rather than sex workers. The few times people took notice of him, activity came to a screeching halt.

He couldn’t help but walk away with deep amusement.

They were escorted into a room in the back of the building. It was clean and lavishly decorated in reds, creams, and black, and plush seating was tastefully scattered around.

“Sit wherever you like,” said the Fly as he closed the door behind them. “We’ll be left alone here.”

His companions scattered around, and Igni opted to stand against the wall beside the door. He waited until the Fly sat on one of the cushions on the floor before removing his mask and sliding it into his sleeve. “What ya got, Raśe?”

Raśe, the Fly, folded some hair behind his back, grey eyes lowering to stare at the floor. “A lot is going on around and in Ciceol. For a while now, these unusual indrahti have been slinking around.” He shrugged, meeting Igni’s gaze. “Not too strange, considering, but what separates them from the others that have been in Ciceol is how powerful they are. Their andla is…incredible, and they aren’t trying to hide it. They’re definitely on par with a second or bracket lieutenant.”

“Impressive,” ’Aras murmured, lavender eyes slanting as he played with his crab mask. “Anything more about them stand out?”

“Unfortunately, no. They’re dressed plainly if not in uniform, perhaps. No one has seen their familiars, though, and that’s probably a smart move on their part. Separate from those indrahti, there’s a group of three wearing white masks who seem to be after them. They’ve nearly crossed paths with the Scarecrow; she’s also been spotted in prime Ciceol locations.”

Igni raised a brow, not expecting to hear about the infamous irratai. “Interestin’…”

“We’re expecting a visit from her anytime now, a terrifying thought. She’s not been seen anywhere near Ciceol—save for the slums—in fifty years. We think she’s also after those indrahti, the real strange ones. The other three’s familiars have been seen; a falcon, mosquito, and jackal. Lastly, and I can personally attest to this, the abbess Vaiśali is hiding in Ciceol.”

“That’s where she’s been, eh.” Igni’s smile widened by a margin. “Ain’t she an’ Saynab have a fallin’-out?”

“Oh, yeah, and much as she tried to hide it, everyone in Ciceol knows.”

“Impressive that she made it to Ciceol at all,” said Zakir, placing a fist to his chin. Like ’Aras, he had removed his sloth mask. “The Muśkali aren’t to be messed with after all, if she managed to make it past Saynab and the Yerō’yan.”

“Depends,” said ’Aras. “If she broke part of the Saralat to get away, she may not have encountered the Yerō’yan. It’s the fact that she got away from Saynab at all, really.”

"Real interestin’,” Igni said with a nod of agreement.

Holding out his hands, Raśe concluded, “That’s all I have for now.”

“Real good, Raśe. Keep it up.” Igni moved from the wall.

“Yeah, can we leave now?” the Gnat griped. She hadn’t removed her mask. “I’d rather be anywhere than this infested place.”

Raśe turned narrowed eyes on her, and she ripped her mask off to flash a fist with her pinky and index finger extended.

“Put ’at hand ‘way,” Igni warned. She deflated again and obeyed but continued to glare at the Fly. He shook his head. “Yeah, we’re goin’ now. Gotta check up on Recen, an’ she’s on a time limit.”

Raśe moved to stand. “Let me escort you,” he said, motioning toward and approaching the door.

“So polite,” Qora mocked.

“’Nough, Qora.” Igni glanced at her.

This time, she only quieted, folding her arms with an inaudible huff.

Before leaving, they replaced their masks, then retraced their steps, navigating the surprisingly quiet brothel without problem. Out of the corners of his eyes, Igni caught sight of people, men and women, peeking to catch glances of him. Typically, he would entertain them but wasn’t in the mood to do so.

Upon reaching the exit, Qora moved ahead and left, her arms still crossed. His tongue flicked out. She was peeved.

“Take care,” ’Aras said to Raśe, giving him a nod as the Fly stayed behind.

“Likewise.” Raśe leaned on the doorway again, much like when they met him. His eyes then narrowed at something behind them.

Igni turned. It was impossible to miss the busybodies that had appeared around the brothel, eyes inquisitive and a touch frightened. They were staring at them—at him.

“Mind your fucking business,” Raśe growled loudly.

In seconds, they scattered. Igni glanced back at the Fly, flashing a larger smile beneath his mask while nodding at him. It was nice to be reminded now and then that Raśe was in charge of the district.

“Let’s go,” he said to his masked companions, taking several long steps ahead. Soft footfalls indicated they were following.

“Where are we supposed to meet Recen?” Zakir asked as they neared the woods. “She can’t go far from Yake Meresta, right?”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” ’Aras acknowledged. “But we’ll be able to meet her in Kakura.”

Zakir made a sound of interest. “Pretty far. But good for us.”

“Yeah.”

Once far enough into the woods, Igni once more led them into a run with jūryovā. He could have teleported the rather short distance to the next town but it was best to travel by foot; they had more control over who and what could see them.

As they ran, he mentally revised what Raśe reported.

The Scarecrow. It was never a good sign when news of her reached his ears. Either something severe had occurred or something equally wretched was about to happen. Either way, it didn’t bode well for them.