Day 3: Year C-009

...

'I wonder. Will the Head Priest keep his end of the bargain?'

The eerie black fog had crept up on the Streets of Grand Island at 11 pm sharp. The lonely assassin crawled out of her underground tube and regained consciousness upon Grand Street. Her eyes dilated at the sign of the New Moon, and she set out for a night of leisure.

It seemed Lucian didn't tug on her strings tonight, thus leaving the killer free to roam.

On a whim, she scaled the tall, luxurious mansions of Grand Street and set her sights on a familiar street. One she called home before the assassin had realized her abilities were far deadlier than anyone expected.

'Courier Street. It's been a while, hasn't it, you hellhole of a prison.'

The assassin perched upon her childhood residence's rooftop. A small, blue apartment that housed her family long ago. But a young married couple occupied the place these days.

"Hey, Andre, let's go for dinner tomorrow evening! It'd be nice if we visited our favourite place for your birthday/"

"Awe, I'd love to, my darling Phoebe! I could go for that sweet shepherd's pie,"

The young couple happily giggled as the assassin listened with contempt. Her eyes flashed with hatred as she formed a sharp sickle with her left hand.

'...No. Unnecessary targets. Must kill anyone who steps into Lord Diamante's black fog or deems her or himself a traitor.'

The assassin majestically launched herself upward and walked among Courier's rooftops, eyeing the streets with hatred. Every major spot held a painful childhood memory.

‘The market where the adults made fun of me for intruding the Temple of Obsidian a decade ago... The front of the school where I cried on the steps because of my failing grades... The green space where I was bullied for my useless ability...The boutique where my Father collapsed from his illness and never woke up again... The apartment where my bully nearly attempted to ambush me... I can recall all this pain and yet I’ve learned nothing but hatred for people...’

Eventually, the assassin spotted a newly established bar decorated with yellow lanterns, which sparked a mild curiosity from within.

'Finally, they moved that stupid school-uniform place down the street. I wonder if a drunken fool will spill important intel like last time?'

The assassin removed her killing-related gear and set it all aside in a black purse. Before entering the bar, she saw her nervous and depressed reflection in a pool of clear water. Her ocean-blue eyes had dulled, her face was riddled with cracks and tiny scratches, and her once radiant sandy skin was looking paler than ever.

‘...Have I always looked this awful?’

With slight hesitation, the assassin walked into the bar with a nervous expression. The sound of a poorly played piano rang through her ears, causing the assassin to tense up further before anxiously sitting on a hard wooden stool. Despite the chatter, the room’s atmosphere exuded a sense of comfort, thanks to the warm candle lights and the surrounding barn aesthetic.

"Hey, you look pale as the old demons, you okay?" A familiar mushroom Priestess called out with a tone of serenity.

Though she was out of her all-white uniform, the assassin squinted at the familiar voice.

"Hm? What's with that look?" Lepiota asked with a friendly grin, slicking back her hair in a flirtatious manner.

"Um... Aren't you a Priestess?" Osmium nervously asked, barely making eye contact. "Y-You look kinda familiar."

"Who me? Uh, well. I am not drinking; my old school friends are. I'm here as their sober guide home for the morning," Lepiota offered Osmium a yellow piece of paper. "Hey, so long as you don't mention me being here, you can have a free drink! No need to pay or trade!"

"U-Uh. I don't drink, so I-I don't think it'd be polite if I took that-"

"Huh, now and then, every adult on Courier treasures a solid wine bottle. You must be new!" Lepiota innocently guessed as she brushed back her curly hair.

"I grew up here." Osmium expressed with an assertive tone, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Huh, really now? I hadn’t a clue since I’ve been assigned to Courier’s Temple four years ago!" Lepiota chuckled as she waved the silver ticket with a star stamp in the middle, "But you should still take this, they serve non-alcoholic drinks here too."

The assassin shakily snatched the ticket and nodded.

"I'll use it one day. Thank you,"

"Oh, not ordering?"

"I-I'm not really thirsty."

'Or ever, what I consume has no nutrition or taste anyway. The Head Priest took away my taste senses in exchange for battle-endurance.’

"Sure, then. At least indulge me with some interesting gossip. I love hearing whatever goes around these Streets." Lepiota smirked. "Come on, don't be so shy. I'm sure you’re an interesting woman, that look in your eyes tells me so."

In the convoluted mind of the assassin, it would be too suspicious to completely refuse to talk. Many people had been accused of being spies, whether it be for the Royals or secret revolutionists.

She had to play the perfect part.

"...I did hear about that missing Priestess," Osmium shyly admitted.

"Ah. Right, her." Lepiota’s mood soured, her brown eyes dulled with worry, "Isn't it terrible?"

"Y-Yes. Her staff kidnapping her is beyond cruel-"

"Hm, let's change the subject." Lepiota nervously laughed as she eyed her drinking friends in the room's corner, "So, what do you do for a living?"

"...I'm a painter,"

'Or at least, I wanted to be one before my dreams were completely crushed and I was forced to serve under the Head Priest instead,'

"Oh! That's a rare occupation for someone who’s from here. You know, I'd love to have my Temple portrait repainted-"

"I'm busy with my clients these days. Maybe some other time," Osmium immediately rejected.

"Awe, alright then. Well, since I'm being more nosy than usual, what's your opinion on romantic love? Surely, an interesting lady like you would have a unique take."

In that moment, Osmium's face turned pink as she glanced down with embarrassment. Though her expression quickly darkened as she thought of the Head Priest's cruel promise.

"...It's. Very cruel. Like being puppeteered against your will."

"Woah, that is a little dark. Did you have an ex that really, y’ know, regretted dating?" Lepiota asked with genuine concern, her casual smirk now gone.

"...It's a mixture of unrequited love and being led on by a deeply cruel promise,"

"O-Oh. That sounds terrible. Now I'm very surprised you won't drink your sorrows away,"

"I refuse. No matter what I do, I will live with this constant heartache." Osmium's hands twitched as she thought of what she had done. "It won't go away until I do as I’m told..."

"H-Hey." Lepiota sat closer to the distressed assassin, "You should probably scoot off to the inn down the hall and sleep for the night. A lot's going through your mind, clearly-"

Osmium abruptly stood up with a dark expression.

"Thanks for the free drink ticket."

She then left the bar's premises into the cold, foggy street of Courier. Lepiota attempted to call out to the mysterious woman with a sad expression, but to no avail.

“...Poor woman. Whoever is taking advantage of her should be arrested...”

Courier Street’s assigned Priestess sadly shook her head and went back to her seat.

Osmium disregarded the Lepiota’s pleas as she turned the corner and reapplied her intimidating visor, cape and mask. Further down Courier, two drunk men had borne witness to the assassin, realizing in their drunk haze that this woman was dangerous. They attempted to run off and call the Guards, though it was meaningless.

"...I see you,"

The assassin hissed with venom as she proceeded to swiftly inject the men with needles filled with concentrated poisonous foxglove. Their screams of terror were quickly doused by the fatal poisoning and the sound of quiet thuds against brick walls.

The assassin grew numb as the black fog deepened and pulled on her legs.

‘Forget my code, they stood in my way and were taken out of their misery... I loathe this place and wish to burn it all to the ground.'