The evening air held a crisp bite as I made my way through Ebonheart’s streets. Merchants were breaking down their market stalls, shuttering their shops and securing iron locks. The usual bustle of commerce had given way to a quieter energy—the transition between legitimate business and the city’s nocturnal dealings.
My thoughts drifted to tomorrow night’s gathering. The Serpent’s Fang would need to strike at precisely the right moment, when the magistrate was most vulnerable. The timing would be crucial. Too early, and we’d lose our chance. Too late, and the bards’ essences would be consumed, including Evangeline’s...
My jaw clenched at the thought. The wound on my cheek, though healed by Corvus’s magic, still throbbed in response to my darkening mood. The memory of those shadow creatures’ touch lingered, a reminder of the ancient evil we faced. And perhaps this sensation was merely a foreshadowing of things to come.
The market square was nearly deserted as I passed through. A few stragglers hurried home, their faces downcast, shoulders hunched against the growing darkness. They all gave me a wide berth, no doubt recognizing my status.
Then, a distant, familiar voice reached my ears. The beautiful sound carried on the evening breeze, accompanied by the gentle strumming of a lyre. My heart quickened. The pain in my cheek was gone for the moment. My body responded to Evangeline’s enveloping music like a serpent to its charmer.
“Through shadows deep, where evil reigns,
A warrior walks with darkness crowned.
His blades shall break the tyrant’s chains,
And set their captive spirits unbound.”
A cold smile touched my lips as I listened to the melody. Even here, surrounded by common folk, she dared to sing about me. Such boldness deserved reward. The possessive hunger that had been simmering since our last encounter roared to life, demanding I claim what was mine.
I found her near the old fountain in the market square, her elegant form illuminated by nearby lanterns. Her gold hoop earrings caught the light as she moved. Her fingers danced across the lyre’s strings with practiced grace while her voice wove magic through the air.
A small crowd had gathered to listen, mostly common folk seeking a moment’s respite from their daily struggles. They swayed slightly to her melody, entranced by both her beauty and her skill. Even a few of the city guards seemed affected, their usual suspicious glares softened by the music’s spell.
Evangeline was so different from the chaos and decay that infected this city. She represented order and refinement, qualities that resonated with my own nature.
Her eyes were closed as she sang, lost in the music. But when she opened them and saw me standing there, her voice caught—a hesitation so brief that only someone watching her as intently as I was would have noticed.
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“When darkness falls and hope is lost,
A shadow’s blade shall pierce the veil.
Breaking bonds, no matter the cost,
The grip of fate at last shall fail.”
The last notes faded into the evening air. The gathered crowd applauded, then dropped coins into her collection plate. Then they began to disperse, heading home before full dark settled over the city. Two guards lingered, their eyes fixed on Evangeline with obvious interest that made my blood boil. Their presence forced me to restrain myself and maintain a careful distance from Evangeline.
“My lord,” she said softly, dipping into a graceful curtsy. “I did not expect to see you here.”
I kept my expression cold and distant, though everything within me yearned to draw closer to her. “That was a lovely performance,” I said, my voice carrying just enough edge to maintain appearances. “Though the themes are rather bold for these troubled times.”
“Sometimes the boldest truths hide in plain sight,” she replied. “But few listen closely enough to hear them.”
“Wise words.” I dropped a silver coin into her collection plate and cast another discreet glance at the curious guards.
Some passersby looked our way with mild curiosity. A merchant hurried past, pulling his cart of unsold goods. Nearby, a lamplighter made his evening rounds, extending his long pole to ignite the street lanterns. We were still too public, too exposed.
“The evening air grows chill,” Evangeline said, her fingers still dancing lightly across the lyre strings. “And these old stones do little to warm weary travelers.” Her emerald gaze flickered towards the familiar street that led to her residence.
I caught her subtle meaning. “Indeed. One must seek proper shelter before night falls completely.”
“The warmth of a hearth brings clarity to shadowed thoughts,” she replied carefully, as she gathered her coins and instrument. “And private chambers often yield deeper understanding of complex melodies.”
I maintained an air of polite disinterest as more townspeople shuffled past. “And rest is good for the soul. It is time I took my leave. Good eve, Mistress Bard.”
I left the market square and took a deliberately meandering path through the quieting streets. I doubled back several times to ensure I wasn’t seen or followed. By the time I reached Evangeline’s building, she was already waiting at her apartment door.
Once inside, with the door firmly locked behind us, and the careful masks we’d worn in public slipped away. The room’s atmosphere shifted.
Evangeline set her lyre down carefully on a nearby table and turned to face me. A slight, mischievous smile hinted at her lips.
“Your song,” I said, my voice dropping to a low rumble as I stepped closer to her. “You were singing about me again.”
“Yes,” she admitted without hesitation. “Ever since I first saw you enter the Crimson Veil, you’ve been the muse for all of my new songs. When I’m not performing for the magistrate, my music speaks only of you—of the dark warrior who will save me from this nightmare.”
“A dangerous game,” I warned, though my tone carried more possession than rebuke. “The magistrate’s spies are everywhere.”
“I must take the risk, or else I will go insane. Whenever I’m alone, or performing out in public... those are my intimate moments to express my own creativity and not the magistrate’s crude abominations that he calls music. These moments belong to me... and now... to you. Every note I play, every word I sing, is meant for your ears.”
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“Tomorrow,” I murmured against her lips, “things will change. But remember, no matter what happens, you are mine.”
She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Always, my lord.”
I left her apartment, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Finally, I had claimed what was rightfully mine. Evangeline’s surrender had been perfect, her submission complete. And Corvus, with all his warnings about attachment and weakness, remained unaware of my actions.
A harsh caw suddenly shattered my smug reverie.
My blood ran cold as I looked up into the branches of the massive oak tree that loomed beside Evangeline’s building. There, perched among the dark leaves, sat a single crow. Its black eyes fixed on me with unnatural intelligence, reflecting the dim moonlight like polished obsidian.
The crow tilted its head, regarding me with an almost human-like awareness. Then it spread its wings and took flight, disappearing into the night sky with another mocking cry.