Today

[Valentine]

Bleed.

He only needed one chance, one clean slice and the deed would be done. The blade flew through the air, moving with deadly precision across its target. Soft flesh was no match for glimmering steel and the body fell at his feet, landing with a splash onto a pool of blood shared and contributed to by his many fallen comrades.

"W-W-Who... are you?" Whatever was left of the man managed to stammer out a few words as his vision slowly started to lose its color. He looked up at his assailant, who still held his sword tightly in his right hand. He had not managed to get a good look at him before, he had moved with unerring pace, almost invisible to his eyes. None of those that had fell to his blade had so much as a glimpse, but now that they had all fallen, he stood there, a silent monument as he looked over the dead and ensured that they were joined by the dying. It was a complete juxtaposition from the blur that had taken so many lives before. The dying had one last sight in the Firmament before they passed on, and with it the victims managed to take one long look at his killer.

His long silver hair danced in the wind, accompanied by the soft sound of his black leather trench coat flapping against his pants. As his hair slowly swept behind his face, his eyes revealed themselves. The dying were treated to one last horror in those things, small yellow malicious beads that pierced into what was left of their bodies. Around them, his slightly pale skin added to his horror appearance while his emotionless lips completed it.

And then they moved, thin pink bits of flesh moved slightly, the sound coming out barely audible but strangely completely understandable, as clear as day. "I am the Emissary of Balance, I am the Valentine Bleeder.”

Kadarus.

He still held his weapon perpendicular to his body, the katana's curved blade soaked in bloody crimson. The Bleeder felt every drop leave the sword and land on the muddy ground below. He tilted his head backwards, looking up at the clear blue sky above. Not a cloud in it.

His emotionless face did not change as he closed his eyelids gently, covering the menacing yellow from view.

"Today."

[Schai]

Thunk, thunk, crunch, swish...

The rhythm led the girl down the road, her ears guiding her as well as could be expected, since her eyes could not complete the task. Not far behind her, she had left a small community that had suffered from an illness of the lungs. Her abilities had been a great boon to them, lifting them out of seeming darkness and preventing needless deaths. In thanks, they had told her of a village to the north by the name of Cherkah that could use her talents for a rash that had been driving several people mad. Concerned, she made her way there as carefully as she could.

A few hours later, an acrid odor assailed her senses, causing her to stop in her tracks. Familiar to the healer, the smell of blood, of death, was unmistakeable. Hefting her staff, she began running, her legs pumping hard as her hair flew behind her, a golden banner of shimmering strands. Feeling the earth shift beneath her feet, fear swept through her, the knowledge that she could easily run into an object, fall, or otherwise be seriously hurt or killed for her wish to hurry nearly overshadowing her worry for the town before her.

"Today."

A voice. Turning slightly, she moved toward it, hoping she was right about the direction as her own breathing became loud in her ears. Not hearing anything else, she slowed, walking along the street with long strides. Without her staff in use to check the ground before her, she was unaware of the bodies surrounding her. One such corpse stretched out before her, the blood still oozing in streams from his body. A living man stood above him, the one who had killed so many.

Schai's slender toes slid under an arm, tripping her so that she lay atop him, creating a gruesome addition sign of flesh. Off to one side, her staff flew out of her hand, skittering across the muddy earth out of reach. Tiny rocks scraped the tender skin on her face and hands, causing them to bleed slightly. Pushing herself up on the burning palms, she knelt before the dead, then looked up, for some reason certain she was being watched.

"Who is out there?"

[Valentine]

Beneath those long silver locks, ears perked suddenly as the sound of meat arriving echoed throughout the area. The Bleeder turned his head, just in time to watch as a girl arrived into the clearing, foolishly tripping over the corpse of a freshly dead fool. He strode towards her, carefully stepping in between the limbs, in between the bodies, his yellow eyes now revealing themselves as they stared intently on the blonde that now lay there. For a second, Kadarus felt emotion reenter his body, he looked at her and felt pity. Images rushed back to him and he paused for a moment, his right and left legs in between bloody limbs, his body hovering above the stench of death. But he did not notice, because for a second, he was cast back into his former life.

Kade Lien, samurai, drunkard, wanderer... He had a meaningless life, but he enjoyed it. Moving from town to town, bar to bar, drink to drink, woman to woman, there was nothing in his life. He simply existed.

But now, he was charged by the Thayne, by Hromagh himself. He had a purpose now. And now that this blonde haired girl had entered an area which he had cleansed just minutes ago, his previously completed mission now had a new objective.

"Why... Why are you in such a rush? Do you want to die?" Kadarus said emotionlessly. He looked at her body, still draped over the body of a fallen man and noticed that as he slowly made his way over towards her, she did not even move. Not one inch. Then, that emotion came back. Pity. He felt for her again.

The Bleeder dismissed it once again. There was no more room for such petty feelings in his life anymore, not now that he was in service to Hromagh. He lifted his weapon into the air, twirling it once before sliding it into his sheathe which lay strapped to his waist to his left. Now, he was within striking distance of her, but he felt again.

Pity.

Perhaps, he felt that she deserved a quicker death. Why? He did not know, he just simply felt for her. Whatever, the outcome would be the same. He knelt down on one knee on the ground that was not covered in blood, then slid his right hand forward, around her neck and reached for her hair. He pulled softly, revealing her face to him. He wanted to look at her before he snuffed her life out.

Reaching for his waist, he pulled out one of his Murasame daggers with his left hand. Clutching it tightly within his grasp, he spoke softly to her.

"Why? Tell me."