Lye’s face twisted into a smile, an expression not often found on his face. His sight was on the mark; Evian carried himself in a way not many others understood.

“I like you,” Lye admitted, smile still chiseled across his porcelain features. I was not a distinction commonly uttered.

“So, for that alone, I will take my leave.” The veteran tilted himself forward and moved to get himself out from behind the table. The scabbards and hilts of his weapons ran along the wood like a series of small knocks until he stood tall at over six feet. The bartender, who did not approve of the movement hoisted something from under the counter still from sight. Dew from sweat glistened on his forehead.

“I do hope we meet again sometime, Evian.” The words betrayed their meaning. Their paths would cross again and by no manner of fate, Lye would be sure of it.

He bowed his head slightly to the newcomer and turned for the exit. The tavern looked nearly empty with only two tables still occupied by drunkards far too oblivious or bothered to care. Lye took only a few steps toward the exit before the body of the aforementioned crossbow came to view and shakily leveled toward him.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Shouted the bartender. “You’ll wait right there!”

Lye tilted his head at an angle and his two, cold eyes bore holes through his aggressor. He did not relent, instead the man leveled his shoulders as though to appear serious, or larger. It looked as though an animal attempting to intimidate a predator. Lye lifted his hands.

Twang! THWAK!

While the bolt from the crossbow still settled into its spot several inches deep in the wall behind him, Lye lifted his hood over his head. Whether by nerves, inexperience, or some other unknown reason, the shot missed. As a result, the bartender deflated and a glimmer of worry sweetened his angered expression.

Without further word or ceremony, the assassin left the establishment. As though he knew they were near, a group of guards filled the entryway moments later. Had the killer stayed...