Judgement had been passed. Yan Xue had been left wanting.

Tyvan Valorum could have acted to prevent it, but he lacked an objective reason. It was best practice to strongly consider the concerns of his close peers and subordinates. And of them, Empress’ opinion was weighted by foresight and temperance far superior to his.

Still... the situation left him in a sombre mood.

Bah.

It was Friday and approaching the time that he and Esha had agreed to meet. Nonetheless, his thoughts remained unscrupulously occupied by a different woman.

He prepared a gift-- and he’d requisitioned the assistance of Heidi to ensure it was appropriate.

Yellow Hyacinths.

The small bouquet sat in the passenger seat. They had a delicate scent.

Tyvan was not well-versed with flowers... or their subtle symbolism. On those matters, he trusted Heidi implicitly.

He tried to push his brooding thoughts away as he drove. What could he do? Yan Xue failed a basic competence test. And with Empress so suspicious of her identity, it would be foolish to go after her on his own.

...Perhaps he could enlist Rook or Bishop to find and train her? But Empress would inevitably discover any scheme conducted by anyone in ❴The Kingdom❵. Then, it would be a sore inconvenience if she decided to kill one or both.

Rook, then. It would have to be Rook.

Tyvan took a deep breath. Did any of his associates know how to train humans without a moderate-to-high probability of accidentally killing them?

He parked his car across the street from Esha’s apartment building, his mind finally clearing enough to focus on the current situation.

Patrol cars. Uniformed officers. Yellow police tape.

Tyvan left the flowers in the car. He had an ominous feeling that he wouldn’t be needing them.

As he approached, he was challenged by a gentleman in business-casual attire.

“Hold on, pal, err-- sir. This area’s not open for the public, right now.”

“Good afternoon,” Tyvan said. “My name is Tyvan Valorum.”

“...O-oh,” the gentleman nodded.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat and lifted the police tape to allow easier access to the site.

And thus, Tyvan continued on his way.

He climbed the stairs and strode down the hallway toward Esha’s apartment.

The door was open. Forced entry. The door was visibly damaged in three places, the locking mechanism, most of all. Smashed and cracked.

He walked inside. Moderate scent of Indian incense. No scent of blood spilt.

Esha’s apartment was cramped but comfortable, her couches and their myriad pillows arranged close in proximity.

Papery awards and certifications lined her walls. A messy display shelf held handmade gifts from her students, two separate decorative bronze apples, and two plastic boxes filled with pencils and other writing instruments.

No signs of further damage. No signs of searching, which would have corroborated the break-in with robbery.

Tyvan walked further in.

Esha’s bedroom-- also open.

The door mechanism was broken in a similar manner to the front.

Odd. That door didn’t have a lock.

Still, no trace of blood in the air.

An older gentleman stood inside, his pen dancing on a clipboard writing pad. He wore similar attire to the man in front, along with protective equipment: plastic gloves, a dust mask, and safety goggles. According to the ID hanging on his neck, his name was Gilbert Nester.

Tyvan stepped in, gave Nester a nod, and observed the corpse of Esha Ansari from a respectful distance.

Grey shorts and a baggy white shirt. Expression locked in pain or fear.

Skin, taut. Flesh, sunken.

Holes on her collar-- through her shirt... each smaller than a dime.

At first glance, a vampire’s work.

--but not quite.

Something related.

Esha Ansari had found her fairytale ending-- but likely not the one she was hoping for.

“How many is this now?” Tyvan asked.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Fuck, man,” Nester cursed. “I don’t know. At least a fuckin’ dozen.”

He shook his head, “World’s goin’ to shit.”

“A truism in every realm,” Tyvan remarked. “Any obvious injuries besides the front of the collar? I assume the back.”

“Yeap,” the man nodded. “Just those four. And just like the others, looks like a fuckin’ dracula or some shit came and went.”

"Four, you say." Tyvan nodded in return... “This one’s not Chinese.”

“Hmph, right,” Nester chuckled. “When I saw the elephants instead of that golden cat thing, I thought I showed up at the wrong address.”

Tyvan raised an eyebrow, “This and... one other, correct?”

“Hm... yeah,” Nester sighed. “There was that white kid, too. This rat bastard’s killing kids-- the sick fuck.”

He looked up, “You get assigned to this case too, then? FBI? Or are we getting help from another precinct?”

Tyvan smiled politely, “Keep up the good work.”

He turned to leave.

He received no more challenges on his way out.

----------------------------------------

Xue Yan put on her best face during the school day.

She was absolutely fucking miserable... but she’d gone so long hiding her feelings in public, that it was almost easy.

Miss Ansari didn’t show up on Friday, either.

Shay was too tired to care. She hadn’t slept well for the past week. She didn’t even think she slept five minutes, the previous night.

Miss Ansari...

Maybe she was really sick.

And then, maybe Tyvan would go see her.

...That’s what the Tyvan she knew would do.

......Because Miss Ansari deserved nice things.

And Shay... she was just stupid for thinking that Tyvan was single.

Of course, he had a girlfriend.

Tall. Broad shouldered. Immaculate professional demeanor. Undeniable presence.

He was super-polite too and hearing his voice made wings flutter inside her tummy.

And... Shay supposed she should’ve felt pretty good that Miss Ansari felt threatened enough to say the things she said.

--as if maybe she saw something that Shay didn’t.

It wouldn’t work out. It was a guilty thought, but so satisfying and vindictive.

Tyvan lived in a different world. Maybe he was even trying to keep her away from it... and for good reason.

He and Miss Ansari would grow apart eventually.

...but then what?

That didn’t mean that Shay would have any better chances with Tyvan than she had.

After her fight with Raia, no one came by to tell her she was officially fired. Maybe they were waiting until she got back from school.

She wondered how much time she’d have to move out.

...She wondered where the hell she’d even go. She couldn’t go back to live with her aunt again. Besides not being able to stand that woman, Aunt Gao threw her bed out. They probably moved a bunch of hoarded junk into her room to make space for... more junk.

She could probably stay with Aquila. Her mom would probably be super sweet about it... but that wasn’t a good long-term plan. Even if Shay was betting on getting a dorm room at whatever college she’d go to, she’d still be asking to live there for half-a-year.

Hah... Maybe her best option was to actually ask Heidi if she could hide in her shed.

A soft and gentle dinging sound shocked her into sitting up straight.

How long had she been daydreaming?

She looked outside the bus. The houses were much nicer than the ones in her aunt’s neighborhood-- same with the trees and benches. Even the people had a certain, upper-class look, wearing designer sweaters and walking purebred dogs.

Two more stops-- maybe three...

Shay just had to keep awake for two or three more stops... then she could walk around a bit-- get that blood to flow.

Carefully pruned trees going by. High-end grocery stores. Tiny pebbles embedded in her palms.

--‘Is that all? Are you really gonna give up here?’

Whitewashed brick walls, free of murals. Elaborate fencing. Her old bed discarded on the street side.

--‘Useless child.’

The feel of Rook’s blood, slick on her hands. Gunshots echoing in her ear. The sound of someone just... laughing.

--‘You’re only human.’

The digital ‘ding dong’ once again. It was her stop.

Shay stood up and kicked the numbness out of her legs. She thanked the bus driver before exiting.

She turned her brain off and let her feet walk the clean, trashless sidewalks she barely recognized.

--following the paths that her mother knew by heart.

She stared at her palm, thinking about how much she missed her.

If Mom were still alive, would she still hold her hand?

Shay thought of Tyvan.

--but that was wrong. She was supposed to think of a trusty, mom-like figure. Heidi? No... Heidi was more like a clumsy older sister.

Tyvan, though... thats whose hand she wanted to hold.

Her grandfather’s estate had a big, imposing, super-expensive wooden gate at the entrance.

...It was appropriate.

Grandpa Wei wrote his name as 偉.

Big.

Not that she’d ever voice the thought out loud, but looking at everything, maybe he was compensating for something.

But Grandpa Wei was also incredibly wealthy. He wasn’t 100% self-made, as the Song family name had been a big deal even in ancient times, but he was the main reason the Sun Conglomerate was still a big name in the modern age.

Rich people liked to build big things. That’s just the way it was-- or how her commoner brain made sense of it.

Shay rested her head against the wall next to the intercom... and took a deep breath.

If her plan didn’t work, she was just going to have to get used to sleeping next to fertilizer.

And so, she pressed the intercom button.