The setting sun loomed overhead, as Jan, Angeline, and Tres crossed the threshold. The silver barrier over the town glittered with even more light then had previously been present, as the visage of the sun seemed to be one of few things that hadn’t been torn free or altered within the ritual’s zone of control, and the orange and pink lights that shone over the sea of Ostoja would ordinarily be a sight to behold.
But Jan was more concerned with making sure it was there in a day’s time.
All around them, they saw the shifting manifestations of magic. The buildings had been transformed, becoming mystical towers, stalwart forts, and giant plants, among other things. Every unoccupied corner teemed with life and movement, massive gardens, habitats where animals that defied logic roamed, and even the roads were bustling with one being or another. Or at least, did, until they saw the trio coming.
Most gave them a wide berth, considering how they looked. Jan had Artem’s gun out, the Control Pistol strapped to his back, beneath his shirt. A trump card for later. And mundane bullets worked just fine on some of them, he’d found. Angeline had discarded the hand crossbow, literally taken it apart. Instead, in her hand, she held a wooden wand. Tres, meanwhile, had been given the whip Angeline had created from the severed head. They had said they were worried about breaking the butterfly knife if they used it on anything less then human.
They looked either completely ridiculous, or the scariest people on the planet. Based on how most of the creatures they saw avoided them completely, darting into the shadows of the forged constructs of magic, he was more inclined towards the latter. Some of them would move like they wanted to get in their way, but stop, reconsidering. Some of them ran off in a way that made sure that Jan knew that they were going to get someone else. But as they moved through the streets of what was once his hometown, they were left well enough alone.
It didn’t take long for them to see the centerpiece.
What was once Ostoja clock tower loomed over the entire area, cutting into the sky in a much larger way then the original structure ever did. Rising up was a tower made from sheer gold, silver and bronze lines running through it’s side. It sloped out of the ground, before converging in a large disk of a top portion, and a thin pillar which rose up further then that. A window circled the disk part, allowing whomever was at the top of the tower a good view.
Jan stopped, when he saw that, getting an idea. He looked to Tres.
“Is there anything stopping you from just…going in there?” He said, pointing at the window.
Tres paused.
“Nothing but whatever defenses they have prepared! They have surely heard of my betrayal by now! And would prepare for such a mighty foe accordingly! The Chimera Prince is no fool!”
…Yeah right. But Jan did realize that it probably wasn’t the smartest move to send anyone in their own their own.
“…Fair enough. Alright then. Let’s…head up the old fashioned way. Angeline, anything we should watch for?” Jan said, as he began his approach, picking up the pace ever slightly, descending the exaggerated slope of the hill towards the tower in the distance.
“Well, any number of things. The one benefit the Chimera Prince has, is that he’s gathered magical minds and creatures from across the world.” Angeline began, as the group began to descend. “He could have any number of techniques or practices, and the people to use them, up his sleeve, prepared for just this instance. And we unfortunately, don’t have much of the element of surprise anymore.” She said with a bit of a sigh.
“…Right. Ugh.” Said Jan out loud.
“But, in the short term, I would imagine the greatest threat to us comes from that gentleman down there.” She said, rather calmly, gesturing forward towards the large front entrance to the tower.
Standing alone on the cobbled path, under the shadow of the gleaming golden tower, was a man Jan hadn’t seen before. He wore a crimson red suit, expensive looking, with a black beard, well tanned skin, and dark eyes that barely pierced the gloom the setting sun cast him in. His main defining trait was a large head deformation, as if his head had been pressed on from the inside.
Jan gave another sigh, and slowed his approach slightly. Tres spoke up, now.
“Ah! Yes, Mr. Baul, I think his name was! A lawyer of some sort! Likely not a true threat.” They said, with overbearing confidence.
“And yet, I see no one else guarding the centerpiece of this ritual.” Angeline argued, as she also looked at him a little closer. “We should be on guard all the same. I’ll prepare something.”
She began to rummage through her bag with one hand, but the group continued to approach. Down, down the hill, towards the man in crimson. Towards whatever fate awaited them. Jan adjusted his grip on the pistol, just as they walked into speaking distance of this lawyer.
He saw them approaching, as they stepped into the same shadow of the tower, without moving. The trio fanned out somewhat, covering most sides of him, save behind him. He began to speak, in an accent that sounded like every possible accent overlapping at once. But, still perfect Polish.
“I was starting to think the Chimera Prince’s fears were unfounded. Hello Mr. Mendyk. I’ve heard much about you. And hello again Trespass-”
“It’s Tres, you imbecile!” They shouted back at him, running the whip between their fingers.
A thin smile formed on his face.
“Ah, yes. Avoiding your proper name, you weaken your connection to the mantle of transgression. My dear, I can’t imagine you have much to fear. You’ll be one of the last they come for.” The lawyer seemed awfully calm, which unnerved Jan.
“I am called Tres because Trespass is a terrible name, not because of-whatever it is you just said.” They shouted back, with enthusiasm. Jan couldn’t help but smile at that, as he leveled the gun at the lawyer.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Move out of our way, and we won’t.” Jan said, with confidence that he couldn’t help but come to.
“Five minutes and seventeen seconds.” The lawyer said, abruptly.
“Excuse me?” Jan said in retort, brandishing the firearm.
“That’s how long it is until sunset, when Miss Ianov will awaken. And when she does, she’ll be certain to kill you all.” He said, again calm. “I am contractually obligated to stall you for that long.”
“You won’t live that long! Foolish lawman!” Tres said, with enthusiasm. Jan couldn’t help but take Angeline’s silence as a sign of something.
“Perhaps not. But, as I am not obligated to silence, I do find it relevant to inform you that my contract stipulates that I am unable to continue my support for the Chimera Prince should I be wounded beyond that which will heal within a day.” He said, his smile unchanging.
“Then we’d better not waste any time.” Said Angeline, cutting in for the first time. She had something gripped in her other hand, and it was thrown to the ground. A paper folded into the shape of a creature, which rapidly unfolded, into a giant flesh and blood monster. It was a creature about the size of a car, a hunched over man with bladed weapons running up and down, puncturing through his skin. His face was a mess of fleshy strands and protruding metal bits, almost like a macabre mask. It roared, and lunged for the lawyer, just as Angeline spoke again.
“Let the one who strikes down the god of metal see that his domain be their bane.”
She laid out the basics of what Jan assumed to be a curse. He, meanwhile, also didn’t waste any time, and neither did Tres. He pulled the trigger, Tres appeared at the lawyer’s opposite side, swinging the whip.
The lawyer held up both hands, and traced them through the air, as the confluence of death merged all around him.
Tres’s whip was caught, Jan’s bullet was blocked, and Angeline’s god burst into shreds of paper. But the lawyer did no such thing.
Standing around him were three figures. Holding Tres’s whip was a woman wearing a wedding dress, pristine and white, a veil hiding her face. However, from the waist down, the pristine white dress was no such thing, crimson blood marring it down to her ankles. Having caught the bullet was a creature which resembled a large bird, an eagle maybe, save for that it had two heads, one of them looking dead and mutilated, the other looking as if it had just hatched from an egg. It’s wings with feathers that looked like stone, were held out in front of the lawyer. Finally, standing amongst the paper scraps that was once the god, was a creature that resembled a form of angel. A literal halo above their head, their genderless body was smooth and carved, like a statue, wings spread out on both sides, and a large and heavy mace in their hand.
“Clever, tying a curse to such a fragile thing. However, all I have to do is not interact with any of your magic, and-“
Angeline didn’t skip a beat, lunging with her wand forward, as if thrusting with a rapier. Shouting to the sky-
“Invicta Ignis-”
As a large column of fire sprayed towards the lawyer. The bird was the one to intervene again, stone wings washing away the fire. The lawyer was starting to look amused.
“So you do know the old ways. Solomon, protect me, Bianca wrangle up that-”
Tres appeared behind him, going to get the whip around his neck like a garrote, only for the bloody woman to appear behind them, and grasp the end of the whip.
“Yes, that one. And Michael-” He said, looking to the angel, then to Jan, who had already fired off another bullet to be blocked by the eagle. “Deal with the inquisitors.”
The angel look flight, and dove for Jan. Tres started getting into a bare knuckled brawl with the bloody woman…and Angeline simply stood there, wand in hand, staring at the lawyer and his bird.
Jan dove backwards, just as the angel tried to tackle him. Turning his gun upwards, he fired, only for the angel to dive out of the way. The angel had torn apart the god, which meant, in theory, it should be cursed. But if Jan couldn’t hit anything…
He heard Angeline speaking, over the chaos.
“Nice technique. Are you human, or one of them?” Her voice was clear and sharp, despite the fact that they were losing daylight.
“I straddle the line. All the best ones do. You don’t get to call them if you’re fully man.” Said the lawyer, matching her tone. By the brief glimpse he got on the ground, the two were pacing circles around each other.
“So you’re with one of the firms, I’d imagine?” She retorted, as if that meant something.
“Not any firm. The firm. Working for the…capitol D, if you catch my drift.” He said, smoothly.
“Prestigious. How did you get to work for some fifth rate faerie?” She once again said, throwing an insult.
Meanwhile, Jan was distracted, since Michael had decided to dive at him again, this time, going in with the mace. He turned the pistol upwards, firing off two shots twice, before shoving himself down the part of the slope he was on with one arm, tucking into a roll. His two shots had forced the angel to do a twisted roll of it’s own, but it was still on course. Two more bullets, two more rolls-all Jan seemed to be doing was slowing the damnable things momentum.
“-So really, the contract was to everyone’s advantage.” The lawyer finished saying, with smugness in his tone. Jan had tuned out of the conversation. Too busy not getting squished. He and Angeline were awfully close now.
“But surely you’re not happy about this?” Angeline said, pressing. “How long have you been here? It must have been years, doing the Prince’s dirty work.”
“Two years, eleven months, sixteen days and five hours. But worth every moment, with how the Chimera Prince is paying, and has already paid.”
Michael hadn’t given up the chase, and Jan had gotten to his feet, staring the angel down, raising the gun threateningly. Michael responded by diving again, and dodging his shots again. Jan ducked right, but seemingly, his movements had gotten predictable, and he got clipped. A shot of pain went through him, as he tumbled the rest of the way down, slamming his back into the bottom of the tower. He could hear the loud beating of the angel’s wings, circling, moving in for the kill.
He had done his math. Only a few bullets left. He needed a direct hit.
So he decided to try his hand at a trick. He flipped the safety on subtly, while his hands were still on the ground. Then, as Michael went to dive, he pointed the gun. And pulled the trigger.
Click.
Jan feigned horror, as if just realizing that his gun was empty. The angel changed course, now that it saw that the threat was gone, raising it’s mace high, as if intent to splatter Jan apart in one blow.
Jan let Michael within about seven feet. Then whipped the pistol up, clicking the safety off, and pulling the trigger.
Whereas normally, a bullet would simply pierce, this time, it crumbled. Michael’s torso went inwards, and the wings were no longer proportionate to keep it in flight. Tumbling from the sky, convulsing as it’s torso twisted up into knots. Jan grinned, and got to his feet, pointing the gun at the lawyer’s back. Him and Angeline were still standing close, talking. Tres had been put in a headlock by the bloody woman, slowly being asphyxiated. Jan saw that the bird had it’s eyes on him.
Suddenly, the bird exploded into flesh, stone, and feathers. The bloody woman dropped dead.
The lawyer sighed.
“You can’t trick me with that orb of yours. Solomon is still watching my back. I won’t let you-“
Jan heard in his head.
“Shoot where the woman was.”
And he obliged, turning his gun, and firing.
It must be a weird thing, thinking you were dead, while you were still standing. Jan solved the discrepancy, as the bloody woman’s brains decorated the tower behind her. His aim was always good.
At the same time, since Solomon was protecting the lawyer from the back, presuming Jan would shoot at him, Angeline drew out her wand, saying no magic words this time, but instead extending the point into a small blade, poking it towards the chest-he moved backwards, faster then he should have. He brought his hands together, as if to bring forth some fresh new set of horrors.
Tres was quicker. At his side, having switched the whip for their butterfly knife again, as they stabbed him in the side, burying the blade up to the hilt.
The lawyer coughed up blood, staggering backwards. An expression of disbelief hung over him. Jan was about to shoot him, when he held up both his hands.
“I concede! I concede. Shooting me now will invoke the rather of Dae-”
Angeline cut him off.
“Don’t speak the name. I understand your point. We graciously except your concession, provided you do not hamper us again.” She said, a bit coldly. “You should leave, before we choose to damn the consequences.”
The lawyer waved a hand, as Jan lowered his gun, and the eagle vanished. He dug the butterfly knife out of his side, and tossed it to Tres, who happily caught it, cleaning the blood off on their hoodie, and folding it back up.
“Might I offer a parting word of advice before you go?” He said, with a nice and wistful looking smile on his face.
“Spit it out.” Jan said, with a sigh.
“Talk less next time.”
The lawyer vanished into the shadow of the tower. Just as Jan, Angeline and Tres realized the sun was seconds away from setting in full. They hurried towards the door, but didn’t quite reach it in time.
Jan wasn’t exactly sure how she’d done it so quickly, but the woman he’d seen the night before, the woman with curly hair and expensive clothing, and of course, crimson red eyes, shoved the double doors of the tower open with force, nearly hitting Tres in the face as she did. She swaggered out of the entryway, without a weapon, and with a smirk on her face. All three of them stood stunned for a moment, as she spread her arms, her eyes dancing between the three.
“So good to see you all again! I’m mostly just happy your little pavement kiss didn’t kill you, soldier boy.”
She said, locking eyes with Jan, who spit on the snow in front of him.
“How uncouth. Did they teach you manners, wherever they breed you inquisitors like racehorses?”
She said, her smirk getting a bit thinner.
“Did they teach you your attitude in whichever gutter they dosed you in?” Jan fired back, leveling the gun at her.
Angeline held up a hand.
“You’re alone. I don’t see your master’s regent. Bring him out, we have to negotiate-”
“Ah, yes, because you claim protection from Saint Marc, hm?” The vampire said, looking at Angeline. “Well I’m afraid little Marcel is indisposed. It seems he thought sedition was just so tempting, and thus he’s in time out for a little while. As it would so happen, I’m acting regent for the Chimera Prince. Would you like to know what I think of your little protection?”
Without skipping a beat, she sprinted across the snow, faster then Jan could move his gun. Tres appeared at her side, swinging the whip out for her back, as Angeline calmly withdrew the orb, and another one of those paper constructs. First, the orb.
For a moment, a vampire’s worst fear was splayed out. The worst circumstances possible. For a moment, a trickle of sunlight leaked out from behind the tower. As if to indicate to the vampire that she’d stepped outside just a little too soon.
But the vampire didn’t even stop for a moment. Holding out a hand, she squeezed it into a fist as she ran.
The orb in Angeline’s hands shattered into glass shards, which riddled her palm. Her face widened in shock, and pain. The vampire then sidestepped the whip strike, and moved forward straight in front of Angeline, who had tossed the final paper figurine into the air. The woman snatched it from the air, then, planted a firm kick into Angeline’s midsection.
Jan heard the snap of bone, as she went flying backwards, tumbling through the snow, sprawling against the slope of the hill. She wasn’t moving.
Jan fired the gun twice, as she stalled in place. She didn’t duck this time, waving a hand dismissively. The bullets sprouted into pieces midair, as two flowers were accelerated at rapid speeds into the vampire, who was now simply decorated with flower petals.
Tres closed the gap in an instance, trying to get the whip around her neck. The woman’s arm slammed backwards. Clearly faster then Tres was expecting, since the blow connected, and they too went sprawling.
Jan and the vampire stood across from each other. Jan with the gun he knew was empty, a few other weapons, and the vampire with her full array of powers.
He still had the Control pistol, tucked against his spine. But if she was this fast, it wouldn’t connect. And the trick would only work once. So, it was a staredown.
“By chance, are you friends with a Eudoxia?” He said, as casually as he could manage.
“That old hag? No. She and I just don’t get along. It’s how I ended up with a nice bit of faerie around my edges. I wanted to sever our ties, and as it turns out, the beings born from human stories have a lot of options.”
She gave a fanged grin.
“It has it’s perks. I can do things most of my kind can’t. The little Tsarina playing dolls in her castle couldn’t dream of anything resembling magic.” She sounded smug. How could Jan use that?
He grinned, massive and wide. Tossing the gun aside. She didn’t need to know it was empty.
“Well good. I wouldn’t want you to be some kind of pushover. You might finally be a Dhampir worthy of my talent.”
She cocked her head at him.
“What are you on about, little boy?”
“You’re speaking to the last surviving member of the Soviet Division of Transcendental Extermination. The Tsarina, despite her best efforts, finds that those she sends to snuff me out don’t come back.”
He said this with all the confident swagger of a man who was bullshitting utterly.
“I kill Dhampir like breathing. It’s gotten boring, at this point. So, since you’re special, I’ll try my hand against you. The gun would be too easy.” He said, gesturing at the dropped firearm.
The woman, like him, grew a grin…sick and twisted looking.
“You and I agree on so many things. It’s a shame I have to wipe your stupid grin off your face. You’d have made a cute pet.”
He shook his head slowly, and exaggerated, as if disappointed.
“You’re just like the res-“
She was fast. Way faster then the one he and Anna had fought-the only true Dhampir he’d ever tangled with.
She closed the gap in seconds. He sprung backwards, only for her to stomp the ground. The earth beneath her literally shook, and he barely caught his balance after landing a few paces backward. He drew out his first weapon of choice, the goblin club he’d pilfered from one of the discolored man’s minions.
She was stronger, she was faster, but she’d fallen for his bluff’s bluff. He’d made a big show of confidence, and she’d seen right through it. Which is what he’d wanted her to do. He’d harped on his prowess, so that she’d drop the fancy magic, and fight him with just her physical ability.
Which was still incredibly lethal. But just a twinge less lethal then unpredictable magic. Apparently, Dhampir in other parts of the world had other abilities inherent to them. They were ‘lucky’ that their strain was mostly just brawn, with a few other tricks.
He moved at her, taking an offensive to not let her control the brawl, swinging the goblin weapon at her midsection. She dodged and ducked to the left, striking at him with her forearm towards his neck. He pivoted, and jabbed the stick with a rock at the end at her. She swiped with her arm, and snapped it in half.
So much for the magic weapon Angeline had been wary of, he mused to himself, as she kneed him in the stomach, and sent him tumbling back down the slope of the hill.
“What happened to all that inquisitor bravado!” She crowed down, as she ran down at him, almost matching the speed of his descent. “Regretting your handicap now, little boy?”
It was as he tumbled, Jan remembered the other piece of advice his manual had given him:
“An angry Dhampir is a predictable Dhampir”
She dove down, using a fancy move to try and run him through with her leg. He drew out his next weapon, the discolored man’s knife, and struck upwards faster. He got her below the knee, caught his fall with one foot, and lunged upwards, cutting up her thigh and close to her midsection, before she kicked him in the shoulder, sending him and her falling in the same direction. She was bleeding, profusely, the sharpness of the blade being a boon here. But it had slipped from his grip. One shoulder ached, as did his wound from the angel earlier, but the adrenaline was keeping him going. He didn’t have any time to waste. She’d stop being disoriented soon. He had to press the advantage while he had it.
He drew out his next tool. The discolored man’s club. He once again caught himself, just as she was starting to, and swung it down with all his might, slamming her in the midsection. It was like a shockwave rippled out from her body, from the point of impact. She let out a yell, as he raised it, and hit her again. Again, a ripple. But oddly enough, it didn’t seem to hurt as much as it should. Before he could land the third, she stood upwards in the blink of an eye, grabbing Jan by the throat.
“No you don’t. I recognize that tool. Though I suppose it would be useless in your hands, wouldn’t it. You can’t even use magic, little boy. You’re out of your league, for all your blusterin-“
He struck her in the shoulder. He visualized, in his mind’s eye, her arm popping off like she was a plastic doll. That didn’t quite happen, even if her arm did detach. It sloughed off, sprouting small holes the size of needle pricks, each of them slowly expanding as if melting from the inside out.
The woman shrieked, and thrashed, and-
Threw Jan with all of her might down the hill.
He slammed into the side of the tower. He felt something crack in his chest, as he tumbled back to the ground.
Fuck.
The club was a few feet away. The woman was still shrieking, which bought him a bit of recovery time. He slowly got to his feet-
She was in his face again. One arm gone, the wound dribbling, as she jabbed her other hand into his chest cavity. Piercing through flesh like it was nothing, she growled obscenities in Russian, she dug around in his guts.
Numbly, he felt around his belt. He was pressed against the wall, no Control Pistol. He had gone through what he’d taken from the discolored man.
He felt something against his belt. It would have to do. He flicked the blade open, and stabbed the woman in the cheek full force with the survival knife.
She howled, screamed, as he spun the blade around, and pushed it upwards through the ceiling of her mouth, and into the top of her skull, pivoting his hands with all the force he could muster through the wound in her cheek to do so. His hands were drenched in blood, and his entire body screamed with pain and exertion.
But the steel blade pierced her head. And her grip released.
He looked down at the body, a bit of delirium taking him over, as he began to stumble back towards his allies.
“Thanks Anna.”
He murmured, as he made his ascent.
Tres had crouched by Angeline, who by all accounts looked better then he did. They stood, looking concerned in his direction.
“Thanks for the help.” Jan muttered, as he fell over, nearby to Angeline’s pack, reaching for it.
“I thought it fitting of faerie to attempt to fell Angeline when she was fallen! So I saw fit to guard her in turn. It seemed you handled yourself! I already fed her some of the herb, but the shock still has her unconscious, an-“
“Give me some of it.”
“We only have one left.”
“…Do you want me to bleed out?”
“A well argued point!” Tres exclaimed, handing Jan the last bundle of herbs. He popped it in his mouth. And suddenly, he wasn’t injured anymore.
“I do find the want to mention that with those wounds, you’ll likely be at risk of-”
Jan held up a hand.
“I know. Not important right now. Can you go to the vampire bitch’s corpse, and grab the paper figure she snatched?”
Tres nodded, and was there and back in a second. Handing it to Jan. It depicted a woman of some sort. He tossed it onto the ground. It unfurled rapidly, like the previous one had, until standing before him was a woman with alabaster skin, exaggerated features, and absolutely no clothing. She looked down at him with beady yellow eyes.
“…Watch over her.” He said, pointing to Angeline. “Don’t let anyone hurt her.”
The woman nodded. Jan then looked at Tres.
“You and me. Ready to go?”
“I suppose you and I will be enough to take down the mighty Chimera Prince! Quickly, into the tower!”
And into the tower they went. Thankfully, the vampire had been kind enough to leave the door open for them. Quickly, the two of them filed in, Jan not bothering to pick up the other weapons. Time was not on their side, and if the Control pistol wasn’t enough, he was screwed anyways. Tres still had the whip, and the butterfly knife. Worst come to worst, he’d ask to borrow one.
Once they got inside what was once the clock tower, he saw that it was much more expansive then it had been. In the opening area along was a large expansive chamber, lined with side rooms and antechambers. A staircase winding up was what the pair chose to follow however, since it seemed like the most cohesive path, until that stairway hit a dead end. They turned around, navigating through a giant, but eerily empty and sterile kitchen, before finding another staircase, this one going a bit further, before dead end. And on. And on, and on.
The entire place was lifeless, and seemed to be larger then either of them could wrap their heads around. Jan was just about to ask Tres to just start using their powers, when one of the rooms that they barged into in search of stairs turned out to be occupied.
It seemed to be a living room of sorts. A fire blazed in the center of a hearth. And two creatures sat in opposite armchairs from each other.
One of them, was a monster. Easily ten feet tall, this creature bore three eyes, each a different color, a crown of antlers, skin that shifted in shape and texture every moment, a pair of giant wings which sprouted off in all directions, cloven and talon bearing feet…this creature was an amalgam.
A Chimera.
The other creature looked like a shadow shaped like a person. Or a person swallowed by their shadow. They didn’t move when Jan entered. He squinted at the shadow, which seemed familiar somehow, until the monster with the mix of traits spoke up.
“Jan Mendyk, I’ve been expecti-“
Jan didn’t let the beast finish, reaching for his back where he had the Control Pistol. Tres acted first, and appeared behind the Chimera Prince, butterfly knife unfurled, moving to cut his throat.
The Chimera Prince sprouted a third arm from his neck, which grabbed Tres around the face. This giant arm was that of a giant, muscled, toned, with veins like steel cables. Tres thrashed, as the creature rose from it’s seat. A silent rage on their face.
“Trespass. I gave you the chance to join me. And you betrayed that trust. But, I do not kill without reason. I am a merciful prince. So, you will take my mercy, and leave.”
He spoke calmly. With the weight of lethality behind him.
He set Tres down. The third arm vanished. And so did Tres.
Fuck. He let both of his hands return to his side.
The creature turned to him.
“As I was saying. Jan Mendyk. I am the Chimera Prince. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Can’t say I share the sentiment.” Jan said, with a bit of a snarl to his voice.
“I wouldn’t expect you to! I’m not very fond of you either. But, someone I know is. And he’d very much like to speak with you.”
Jan was about to say something else, when a door at the other end opened.
Walking into the room was a figure familiar to Jan. He was a little taller, his features a bit sharper. His hair was better, as if it had been cared for expertly. He was dressed different, with a low cut shirt, a pair of long silk pants, and a pair of bejeweled bracelets studded with silver.
And yet, Marcel Jurek smiled at him all the same. Teeth so perfect they reflected the light of the fire.
As Jan stood their speechless, heart going a mile a minute, he spoke, loud and clear.
“Hey there, Jan. Care for another kiss?”
Kindling And Miscellany 