Prompt 036 - Regret

Title: Impending Storm
Author: Dysfunctional Muses
Fandom: Crow Universe
Characters: J. Daegal
Prompt: Table 5 - 036: Regret
Wordcount: 1455
Rating: PG
Summary: Daegal visits his wife’s grave
Warnings: Some adult language
Disclaimer: There is nothing to disclaim. This is all mine.

Huge thunderclouds overshadowed the cemetery, compressing the air before them with heat. The bruised light cast a strange pallor over the rows of graves and the lone visitor striding among them. The tall man wore the dark gray uniform of a Gray Guard, a member of the armed force that protected the people of Altena. But right now there was only one thing on his mind as his feet traced a familiar path to the mausoleum. He stopped at the middle of the wall and his hand reached out to rest against the marble. Fingers lightly traced the words that read, “Katherine Daegal.”

Guardsman Daegal studied his indistinct reflection in the polished stone. Had it really been six years? His mirror image didn’t look like it, the polished stone blurring the signs of age on his face. Katherine wouldn’t have liked the changes. But then again, those six years had been spent hunting the ones he held responsible for her death.

The voices laughed and chatted, belonging to friends and comrades that had come to celebrate the Gray Guard’s 90th anniversary and Daegal’s promotion. Katherine smiled at him and leaned close to whisper in his ear, promising their own private celebration later in the evening.

He drew his handkerchief from a pocket and carefully wiped away the dust and pollen. At this time of year it got everywhere, blown in from the wide plains around Angelli. The light continued to drain, swallowed up by the lumbering storm. Daegal shook the dust from the cloth and used it to wipe his face. The air was stifling, laying on the world as heavily as stone.

The conversations stumbled and Daegal glanced up to see what caused it. A figure stood in front of him, one arm raising. The party-goers twisted out of the way as they realized the newcomer had a gun. Daegal gaped in disbelief, and then he saw the mask. Two dead snake eyes stared back at him. A Guild Assassin.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling over the plain to the city. Daegal used his reflection to adjust his uniform cap, ensuring that it rested perfectly over his hair. He also used it to spy the figure approaching him from behind. His hand dropped to the steel shield pinned on his jacket, tapping it once. A second tap followed lower down, against a slight bulge at his waist.

The figure didn’t speak, but the startled cries of those around it spoke for it. Daegal’s hand reached for a weapon but he had none, he never thought he would have needed one here. Katherine shouted and pushed him. The gun barked once, twice. She fell against him, gasping, and the figure, the Assassin, melted away into the crowd.

Daegal turned as the newcomer reached him and wasn’t wholly surprised to see the robes and face-wrap of an Antarean monk.

“Peace, brother,” the monk greeted. His voice was gravelly and bore a strange accent. “I saw you from the chapel and thought I would offer a word of comfort.”

“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary,” Daegal said, shifting uneasily. The monk’s eyes were an unusual acid-yellow, slitted like a snake’s. There was something else about the monk’s covered face that bothered him, but he couldn’t pin down what it was.

“Comfort is hard to find these days, is it not?” The monk peered at the inscription. “Your wife, I take it?”

“Yes,” the Guardsman answered, his brow furrowing.

“I am sorry for your loss.” The monk inclined his head slightly. “It is troubling times, is it not? The attack in the plaza....”

“Terrible,” Daegal conceded, his voice guarded. “Terrorists will stop at nothing to disrupt the lives of innocents.”

“Ah, but not all who were wounded were innocent, were they?”

Daegal paused, his sense of unease growing. He adjusted his jacket, and the tiny bulge moved surreptitiously up his chest to his sleeve. “As far as I know they were.”

“Ah, you consider Solomon Klein to be an innocent then?”

“Of course not. What does he have to do with anything?”

The monk shrugged. “He was wounded in the attack, curiously enough. Though I suppose it could happen to anyone, innocent or not. But did you know they did not catch the gunman who shot him?”

“You are making some wild claims,” Daegal said, his voice carrying a warning tone. Just how much did this man think he knew?

“I think they did not catch the gunman because they could not see him. An assassin, one would think. But would it not interest you to know that Solomon Klein has been marked as Untouchable? Who would be so bold as to wear an assassin’s skin?”

Daegal turned on the monk. “Just what are you--?” He stopped at the inexorable pressure of a blade at his throat. Impossible, the monk’s hands were still resting at his sides. Then Daegal saw the tail that extended from under the robes, arced up along the guardsman’s body and hooked over his shoulder. He returned his attention to the monk and realized what was wrong with his face. There was no bump where a nose should be, just a flat plane. Flat, like a mask. A mask with snake eyes, made of living flesh.

“Who the hell are you?” Daegal growled.

The monk slowly lifted a hand and pulled down the cloth covering his face, revealing a grin made of ashen fangs. “Does it matter? But I suppose it does to you. You already guessed as to my nature, yes?”

“Assassin,” the Guardsman hissed.

“Correct. But did you guess that I am Siko, lieutenant to the Guild Master?”

Surprise washed over Daegal, followed by anger and no small amount of fear. The second-in-command of the Assassin’s Guild didn’t reach that position by sitting around doing nothing. The blade at his throat was testament to that.

Siko’s grin widened. “No, I do not plan to kill you today, Guardsman J. Daegal. I find you... interesting.”

A shiver passed down Daegal’s spine at the way the assassin lovingly hissed the word. “Then what do you want with me?”

“I wished to pass on the message that you have been deemed Untouchable. You interest me, as I said. In six years you have eliminated more assassins than any other living being.” The yellow eyes narrowed. “And you have learned some tricks, have you not?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Siko chuckled. “I am sure you have kept a memento or two from my Snakes. And the fact that you were an accomplished sniper in the Guard is not hidden knowledge. I wonder if anyone will be able to put the pieces together?”

Daegal pursed his lips, glaring at the assassin. “If there’s a point to your rambling, please get to it.”

“But you would rather wait until your comrades arrived, yes?” Siko slowly reached out and rested a talon on the shield. “No doubt you hope that one of your snipers will shatter my skull.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed, no.”

Siko flashed another grin. “Not today. My schedule is full.” The tail and the blade attached to it pulled away.

Daegal hissed a breath out, forming a command word as he extended his arm. A white-scaled snake shot from his jacket sleeve and sunk fangs into Siko’s tail. The assassin hissed and slapped his tail against the wall of tombs, knocking the medriki free.

“Sneaky indeed, Guardsman!” Siko cried as he stepped back. “I admire it!” He gathered his legs under him and made a leap to the top of the mausoleum.

A shout reached Daegal and he looked over his shoulder to see Guardsmen running to his position. “Shoot him!” he screamed, gesturing to the dark figure.

Siko’s amused laugh floated down, followed shortly by the cracks of gunfire and the rumble of thunder. Daegal rushed away from the building, craning to see the top. Nothing.

“He vanished, sir!” one of the Guardsmen said.

Daegal bit off a curse. “Make a sweep. Get the forensic teams out here and cover the whole damn area.”

“Yes sir.”

Daegal strode back to the marble wall and reached down. He scooped up the dazed medriki, stroking its head gently. Inevitably his gaze was drawn back to his wife’s tomb as another peal of thunder rolled. Why today, of all days? Did the bastard know?

I wonder if anyone else will be able to put the pieces together?

No, he’d been very careful. Siko was right, he had picked up some tricks. But more importantly, he knew how both the Gray Guard and Homeguard worked, and knew how to circumvent their procedures.

The situation had indeed become more interesting.