Behind These Tired Eyes (Mila/PM for Entry)

[Ryuzaki]

The sun rose as it always did, stretching its beams of warming light over the tops of the buildings and then painting the vast sky in streaks of red and orange as it burst over the horizon. Santaruz was quiet in these early hours, but as the sun rose so too would the inhabitants. One, though, had been awake to see the sun fall, the moon rise, the moon fall, and the sun rise all in one smooth stroke of motion. He sat, wrapped in a dark, heavy cloak, with a sheathed sword on his lap. He sat, silvery hair a mess and obscuring most of his face. He sat, with tired eyes. Not so much physical tiredness, but rather spiritual exhaustion. A lack of purpose.

Thoughts swirled in the mind of the assassin Ryuzaki. Years had passed. Seasons had passed. Friends had passed, and enemies too. The blood of many men and women had stained his hands, stained them an indelible shade of deep scarlet. Even now, as he looked over the white skin of his palms, he could see their blood, their life, which he had taken for his own. For a moment it burned him, tore at his flesh, this vision of murder, but then the pain and the voices which had begun to scream in his mind changed to a peaceful hum, a lilting melody. It was as this change stole over him that he rose, unsheathing the sword he held, and strode to the edge of the roof.

For what had he killed?

He had killed to save himself, primarily, to preserve his life and extend his opportunity to realize his dreams and ambitions.
He had killed to advance his goal of a better, purer world. This he had done often, but not as much as the preceding reason.
He had killed to save others. This he had done rarely, but done nonetheless.

But why had he killed?

He had killed because it was necessary, or because it was beneficial. Because the needs of one person, their own life, was less important than the greater good - the creation of Utopia. That was why he had killed. But in the end, Utopia was still far away. The world was changing, yes, but it was no closer to the world without strife and with opportunity for all that he envisioned. So had he failed? Had he done nothing but preserve his own life?

Yes. He had failed.

But when you consider it all... perhaps he had not.

There was Vincent. Once a newborn whelp, as unskilled as could possibly be... and now a mighty duelist, a rival, and an adversary to be respected. He had grown to hold his own ideas and seek his own Utopia. Ryuzaki respected that, respected Vincent and his world and how he fought to protect it. There was Jude, the young gutter rat who had learned the trade like he was born for it. Jude was out there, somewhere, following in Ryuzaki's footsteps and living off of those who had more than enough. That too was something to be proud of. And there was Leiva, the young one, the sapling who was growing to a mighty tree. She too was faring well.

When he looked back, he had given of himself. He had created Utopia, had brought light to some. He had done a little, but perhaps it was enough to merit another try. His dream could not die - not that easily, not yet.

Ryuzaki raised the sword Gemini. It was the blade he had designed, the blade he had created, the idea that had taken form through the mind of an assassin and the work of a craftsman who could understand the nuances of blades. This was a weapon that was representative of his own self. Sharp, cold, and sturdy on the outside. But internally... Cracked. Jagged. Torn.

Slowly, the assassin sheathed the blade. It was Shinryu he lofted next, Shinryu the fel sword, the blade of sickness and evil and malevolence. It was a weapon born of hate, it seemed, hate and spite and envy. It was becoming a friend to Ryuzaki, a friend and a partner. For without ambition, and all the horrors that grow from inside the imperfect human spirit, nothing great can be achieved. Ryuzaki embraced the darkness, for he sought to create a great and powerful light. Shinryu was, ironically, a necessary evil. And the weary man who wielded it had grown to accept and embrace that fact.



The sun was truly above the horizon now, and dawn faded into morning before the assassin collected his thoughts and prepared himself to leave. When he did finally turn to go, he heaved a large sigh, sheathing his weapons and pulling his hood up, obscuring his face. His steps, at first measured and slow, soon broke into a run, and he dashed straight to the edge of the roof, wrenching Shinryu free and bringing the sword point up in a sharp arc until it hung, quivering, in the air over the street. The sword glowed dully, and then with a bright gleam of vile violet, a brief rush of what seemed to be blood burst from the blade, the droplets hanging momentarily on the air before dissipating in a red mist with a hiss.

"My dream shall not die."

With that, the assassin turned and sheathed his blade, this time keeping it away and descending down a ladder to an alley below. Now careful and watchful, Ryuzaki turned to the street, and then lightly stepped out, blending into the crowd and striding along towards the center of town. He had a bit of business to finish, and then he would be off again. Off to things unknown and sights unseen. Off to continue his search for Utopia, for peace, for solace. He had made these journeys before, and though none had led to eventual success, he was confident that one day he would understand. One day he would find meaning. One day his world would exist.

[Mila]

Ah Santaruz. Worlds worst place for sages and magic users alike. The green haired sage mused to herself. She had arrived in the Lycian territory not too long ago. She finished a rather simple escort mission from Badon and decided to stay in the territory to see the sights. The territory had improved greatly since her last proper visit. And she found herself sorely disappointed at the territory and its sheer lack of competent mages. It seemed that this country's militia valued the sword, lance, and axe more than the academic prowess of magic. Which was a shame, a few good mages, could really bolster the might of any sort of militia. That's not to say that the territory didn't have ANY mages, it's just that those mages were outnumbered by the sheer amount of infantry and cavalry the army had.

But, she wouldn't let this place's lack of interest in magic deter her from having a good time. Well, what constitutes as a good time for an astute sage like herself. She found herself sitting outdoors under the shade of a cafe's awning. She had ordered a cup of tea and a light salad for lunch. While she waited for her greens to arrive she had her nose in a book. Actually, there was a fair stack of books on the table with her. Books she purchased in other cities, that had been sitting in the bottom of her bag for months. The book in front of her was one of Mathmatics. She held the book open with one hand, her thumb acting as a page holder. In her other hand, a pencil, and it was busily scribbling away a few practice problems on a blank parchment paper. Math was not her favorite subject but, it was something she was good at. Something she could do easily. And she figured it was best to get through the least interesting books firsts, before diving into the books of stuff she actually wanted to read. Like the book of medicine and botany.

[Ryuzaki]

Hood up, the assassin moved through the streets easily, slipping through the traffic like a fish might through the tall towers of kelp. He felt unusual, as if there was a slight tinge of a fragrance he knew long ago in the air. No, it was more like there was an echo of a melody he'd once heard. Perhaps that wasn't it either. The pattern of light upon the buildings was akin to a piece of art he'd seen many ages ago.

How frustrating. None of these captured what he was feeling. Was this... nostalgia? Deja vu? Melancholy? He wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it made him feel a mixture of wistfulness and nervousness, and he was not sure he liked it. His whole being seemed to be on edge, but not as if he anticipated danger. It was more of a gathering of energy into his extremities. His hair rose, goosebumps forming on his arms, and his eyes narrowed. He felt warm, and he pulled his hood back impatiently, shaking his head and looking around to try and figure out what was going on.

It was a coincidence, wasn't it? There was no sixth sense, no way of sensing the presence of another. Not as far as he knew. But there, in front of him, not one hundred meters away, was a familiar figure in a familiar pose.

"Mila."

It was merely a whisper, a short statement, a recognition. The word itself was meaningless to any who might hear it, but to the assassin it opened a flood of memories. With a loud rush akin to that of water, which almost seemed to be audible, but really was only in his mind, the memories began to flow, swirling around Ryuzaki as he stood transfixed in the street.

Their first meeting... A jail, fire, and a harrowing escape to a cottage in the woods. Brief discussion, which led to a spar, and later, their reunion in the woods. He remembered the difficulty he had broaching the conversation, since it seemed so odd that one such as Mila would be assaulting a prison to free someone she knew little to nothing about. But he found that her goodness was rooted deep inside her. It interested him, and confused him, and prompted him to think. He recalled how they had inelegantly conversed, occasionally embarrassing themselves or the other, and how they had parted on good terms, moving on with their respective lives. He felt anger, and deep hate, when his mind stopped on the memories of Ciaran, of Mila's kidnapping, and their tailing. He blushed, when the smell of Mila came through his mind as he remembered their night together.

But most of all, he was struck by the image, the sense, the radiance. The burning spirit that dwelled within her. He remembered that light, the fire within her, that led her on and compelled her and inspired her and challenged her.

And so he took some of her fire, mustered his courage, and crossed to her, standing in front of her, at the opposite side of the table, one arm resting gently on the empty chair.

"Good afternoon. May I? Or...are you expecting someone?"

[Mila]

Come on Mila. Did we forget how to do square roots? The sage thought to herself as she kept working on her math problems. At this point, the page was seventy-five percent of the way full with example problems. The top corner had a small chart that listed the multiplication table to use as a reference. As well as a series of formulas that she had recited from memory. The rest of the page had her work of example problems. Most of it being geometry as noted by the various triangles and squares that littered the page. As well as the several lines of numbers used to calculate area, angles, and volumes (when liquids were given). But she was stuck somewhere on the bottom end of the page. The back end of the pencil tapped on the empty spot as her mind tried to remember what was forgotten. She sighed. She scribbled alongside the problem a simple factor tree and would need to work from there.

"Six hundred twenty-five.. contains one hundred twenty-five and.." Her voice was soft. Her eyes were focused on her work.

"Good afternoon. May I? Or...are you expecting someone?"

It took her a moment to register the voice of another person talking to her. Another moment to glance up at the person in front of her. At first, she dismissed him as one of the workers. Someone who was looking to take the chair rather than the actually sit in front of her. She did sort of look really busy.

"No one's sitting there. You can take the chair to another table." And THEN it clicked. She glanced back up from her book again to confirm that it was indeed Ryu that was in front of her.

"Well now, isn't this a surprise. Of course, you can sit there.. R.." Her response was a cheerful one. She cleared her throat towards the end. Right, this was a public setting she couldn't just blurt out the name of an assassin out loud.

"Near." She gestured. She stuffed the sheet she was working on in the book and closed it.

[Ryuzaki]

"No one's sitting there. You can take the chair to another table."

Ryuzaki smiled, his eyebrow raising slightly as the young woman turned her attention back to her book for a moment before her head rocketed back upward. Yes, that was what he had hoped for... She did recognize him. She remembered him.

"Well now, isn't this a surprise. Of course, you can sit there.. R... Near."

"Ryu is just fine, Mila. I haven't been very... active... recently."

Nodding, the assassin took the offered seat, slipping down and giving a soft, quick sigh. Reflexively, he checked around him, and then relaxed, cracking his joints and looking carefully at Mila's face. His eyes were bright and analytical as they roved over her features, spending a lot of time on her eyes but not neglecting the rest of her face. Apparently satisfied, he nodded and then looked down, embarrassed.

"Sorry. It's been a while. How have you been? You look well."

Suddenly he found himself at a loss for words. He'd thought of many things to say, many things to tell her, many words indeed, but none of them seemed right. It was all for naught, he realized, the planning and preparation he had put in. There was no way to preplan for things of these type. He just had to wing it, really, and see what happened.

So he sat back, slowly forcing himself not to speak, not to babble incoherently, not to swamp her with all of the thinking he'd been doing and all of the ideas he had for a world, a better world, a brighter world. He just sat, sat and waited for his friend to speak. He waited to listen.

Was that the right term? Friend? Was Mila his friend? Was he her friend? In fact, Ryu had no real idea how things stood, or what their relationship was. She was a spitfire, that was certain, with a penchant for getting nervous and lighting things on fire, as she'd described to him. She had once hinted that she would take him up for professional business. He had guided her through a forest. He had helped save her from kidnappers. They had spent a night together.

Did this make them friends? Ryu wasn't sure. He methodically thought about it, going through scenarios, trying to reason it out, and eventually coming to a conclusion: if Mila were under attack, he would step in to help her. Not defend her, since he was sure she was perfectly capable of defending herself. But he would help her, fight beside her, stand alongside her. If that was what friendships were made of, then he considered her his friend.

[Mila]

"Ryu it is then. Thanks for that." She smiled softly. She fixed her gaze on him for a moment, trying to remember what he looked like prior. The assassin looked mostly like his old self but yet she could sense that something was different. His hair was arranged differently now then it was before. And he seemed.. tired.

"I have been well, but how about you? I like the new do. You seem.. kinda.. worn out? Long night?" She asked him casually. She was curious to know why though and would do what she can to help her comrade. Was comrade the right word for what they were? She felt it was the right word. Then again maybe it was just the awkwardness of all this... she hadn't seen Ryu in months. Not since her kidnapping and the night afterward. She was a different person now then she was then. Stronger. Much more confident in her skills and abilities as a spell caster and scholar.

"Want me to get you something? Tea? Water? Juice?" Sweet things usually perked anyone up. They sure as heck perked her up. Preserved fruits were an essential component to many of her potions and trail mixes. The sugar in them helped to cure fatigue after she cast particularly difficult magics. It was at this point she noticed her own tea cup on the table. The waiter must have brought it to her while she was in the middle of her books. She really needed to pay more attention to her surroundings when she's book reading. Perhaps there's a book out there to help her with that.

"You can take my mug for now if you like. I'll just order another."

[Ryuzaki]

"Ryu it is then. Thanks for that.

I have been well, but how about you? I like the new do. You seem.. kinda.. worn out? Long night?"

Ryu couldn't help but give a chuckle at that, though it was short lived. Long night? That was just the start of it, but he didn't know even where to begin. Ai, it had been a long, long time. Months that felt like years. There was a lot of time and distance, and in retrospect, it felt like he hadn't slept since... Well, since Shinryu. Ever since then, it was like a little voice kept nagging at him.

"Want me to get you something? Tea? Water? Juice?"

The voice shocked him out of his thoughts, although he thankfully didn't start or show that his mind had been whisked away. That would be a major gaffe.

"You can take my mug for now if you like. I'll just order another."

"Thanks, but I'll flag the waiter down. I don't want to take your drink, and plus... I think I'll shy away from the tea. You always liked that, but I really never got swept off my feet by it. Maybe I'll just get some water, or some soup. That's got fluid in it too, and I feel like you'll chastise me if you knew I haven't eaten in a day and a half."

The assassin gave a quick, wry grin, and then moved on to answering her more important question.

"Long night? More of long months. Soon after we last parted, I embarked on more adventuring...working...you know. And I found this thing."

Ryuzaki brought Shinryu, sheathed, up and laid it on the edge of the table, proffering it to Mila for examination.

"It's lovely, and terrifying. I'm not sure what exactly it is made of or where it came from, but one source claims it's magical, dates from around the Scouring, and was made for Vinh the Nabatan. Practically, it's a well-balanced sword, with some heft to it, that seems to spew out blood that has ill effects for those that contact it. Except for me. I'm not sure if it can distinguish allies, or just the wielder, but it's a confusing mess.

The sword sometimes seems to call to me, or speak to me, but I can't understand it. Frustrating. Also, I look worn because I am worn. Trying to chase after a dream of a perfect world isn't easy, especially when you're preoccupied.

Are we friends?"

It was a hell of a lot more abrupt than he'd hoped, and he winced after the words came out. That wasn't how he meant to say it. Damn.

[Mila]

"You better eat something. I'd hate to see you flub up a stealth job because your stomach growled at the wrong moment." She spoke. The waiter arrived to deliver Mila's order of salad and to take Ryu's order for food. With that done, the grey haired assassin put the new blade on the table. Almost immediately Mila could sense that the weapon had black magic forged into it's metal. Black magic gave off a certain aura to it. Something that as a sage she could feel. Or that might be due to the fact that she spent a good chunk of time researching monsters or perhaps another chunk of time hanging around a certain white haired shaman.

"It's definitely a magic weapon. Nether. Shadow. Dark. As to what spell it's based from.. I might need a bit more time to figure that one. Most of my dark magic experience comes from the basic Flux or Mire Tome. And.. monsters." She spoke and grabbed her fork.

"Dark magic talking to you in any way shape or form.. isn't.. good." She gave Ryu a concerned look.

"Chasing after dreams will do that to you. I should know. Researching these monsters for the greater good of everybody isn't easy. Doing that is hard.. getting respect for doing that even harder." She sighed softly.

"Fighting stigma is difficult. I've written up a few basic guides but I've yet to find a place that would be willing to publish. The library is no place for a woman some say. Other areas.. that have yet to see the effect of monsters.. claim my works to be a fantasy." The sage pierced through the first layer of mixed greens with her mini trident. The salad was a simple one. Comprised of several layers of spinach, lettuce, berry tomatoes, and arugula.


"Are we friends?" The question came to her as a bit of a shock. She took her first forkful of salad and popped it into her mouth for a bit. She thought about the question as she chewed. Then swallowed and came to two realizations, one the salad needed a dressing, two they were friends.

"Lets see.." She spoke after she swallowed the greeny mass.

"We met in the middle of a poorly executed prison break. Spent the night in a cabin in the woods. You guided me through a forest. Saved my life from a bunch of kidnappers. We spent the night together.. Ryu I've met people who have become best friends for less. So yes. We are friends. And you should feel silly for asking." She gave him a warm smile after that. Then went to work on her salad.

"Mind passing me the oil?"

Mila was given the oil. The sage dressed her salad accordingly and spent the afternoon catching up with Ryu. Several empty plates and several lengthy conversations later, the sage had to bid her assassin farewell. There was still stuff she needed to do and she had very little time to do it. [Mila leaves the thread]

(OOC- been a month. Gonna leave this.)