#mortiium

CONTACT: naomi 👅

Closed scene for mortiium

Business had brought this young assassin all the way to the Imperial City. Rarely did he find himself in the country’s great capital, but once the contract was said and done, he was more than likely to be found wandering about to take in the sights. By the time the long day had waned into the cooler evening, the Imperial had ushered himself into the quiet sanctuary of the Arboretum for a moonlit stroll. 

The actual target had been less than a challenge. It was an older woman, a duchess of some wealth among the nobility, which didn’t take much effort when it came to slipping into her manor and creeping back out. As he silently wandered the public garden, he couldn’t help but reflect on his recent string of jobs and notice how unsatisfying the hits were. Either the feeble or the fair, nothing really worth telling about back home and not much to work with when attempting to weave a story. Boring, he couldn’t help but wonder if someone was hand picking these tasks with this intention. 

Tonight Masser was in her waxing phase and with it her moonlight illuminated the ivory columns of the central monument of the garden. As he passed each of the statues that represented worshiped deities, their ghostly marble faces yielded eyes that felt as if they followed him as he drifted past. 

It was enough to send a small chill up his spine, with such an active imagination he was half expected to see the stone carved figures break free from their stasis and become animated with life. He reached for his cloak and closed the front of his mantle to keep out a breeze. No, with a moment to stare they did not move, there was no one around but himself. At least he thought this true, until his eye caught the silhouette of a figure not far, and his eyes narrowed in an attempt to decipher who might lay beyond.

raum: do you have a tendency to hoard anything? if so, what?

a childhood memory

Tender was the age of youth, and thisImperial boy was one of many who roamed the streets near dusk hopingfor a spare coin or a treasured find to steal. This night wouldunveil quite a treasure, sneaking through an alley the boy paused ata tall wooden gate. A glimmer of light had caught his eye and thesight within a hole in one of the many wooden planks revealed a sighthe had never encountered before.

A young woman, bare and pale as theface of Masser in the night sky. She stood in a basin while shebathed herself at leisure, like some siren from a fairy tale shehummed a song, unaware that she had a quiet spectator not far. Ambereyes were difficult to pry away, peeping on such a private moment wasa taboo that kept his shabby boots firmly grounded were he stood.

The moment felt like an eternity,watching this celestial goddess rapture in a moment so mundane asbathing. This tantalizing encounter was suddenly snatched away whenthe collar of his jerkin was snatched by a strength that immediatelyoverwhelmed him. He was caught, by a man who immediately addressedhimself as the owner of the home, and the keeper of the young womanbehind. The boy let out a gasp as he was pushed against the stonewall of the building near the gate.

The man, who stood tall and wieldedhands like bear paws, clutched him tightly and said, “Like watchingmy daughter?” There was a dark tension in his words next, “Let'ssee if you like it after this...”

Hours later... the boy found himself inthe town square. The moon was high and the night late, but hecouldn't remember how he got to this spot. What throbbing pain in hisribs and the bruising on his face did vividly detail the beating hehad endured earlier in the evening. His throat was sore fromscreaming, tongue parched and eyes dry from tears shed once he wasalone.