“Good evening, sir and madame,” the guard at the gate said as Idris and Saya walked up to him, dressed like prince and princes.

“Good evening,” replied Idris, handing him their tickets.

It is dusk, and the dancers are arriving one by one. Idris recognizes all of them, but for tonight, they are total strangers.

Andrei and Nina, a pair for the night, stood in line behind them, then Thomas and Lilian further back.

“Mr. Ivanov and Mrs. Ivanov?” The guard asked them, reading from the scroll in his hands.

“Yes.”

“Newlywed?”

“Well, yes,” Idris answered.

“Welcome, enjoy your night,” the guard stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.

“Thank you.”

They walked through the gates and down the tiled path, dimly lit by the little lanterns beside it, twisting and turning through the compound, trees and little bushes beset on both sides.

“Newlywed?” Saya whisper-screamed. “Newlywed??”

“Shush. We’re on a contract. Just play the part.”

The Schulz estate greeted them with blooming lights within its grand front entrance. Though not as big as their manor, it’s still a grand mansion nonetheless.

As they entered the large ballroom, surrounded by crystal windows, covered in a beautifully painted ceiling, they were met with the chatter and laughter from the dancers littered throughout. Even somewhat early into the night, the mansion was already buzzing with activity, the partygoers waiting for the music to begin.

Great crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, the many dozens of candles painting the room a warm yellow.

A small band sat in the corner of the hall, tuning their instruments and flipping through their music. There was a grand piano, a double bass, two cellos, two violins, and several sets of percussions.

“That’s a lot of instruments,” Saya whispered. “Back home we only had Yelena on the piano.”

“Well, this is a proper ball after all.”

They headed towards a group of dancers, their friends, but strangers for tonight, and joined the conversations. At times Idris would forget that they even knew each other because he was so engrossed in the act of being strangers.

At some point, a waiter came through with a tray of colorful cocktails. Idris took two, handed Saya one, and they began sipping the tasty drinks together. Saya’s cheeks were a little pink, but it wasn’t from the alcohol, maybe because of her makeup.

“Good evening,” Leo said as he came over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Idris replied.

“What brought you two here?”

“Well, we just thought a ball could ease the stress of daily life a little.”

“Ah, I see…” Leo chuckled, then took a step closer and leaned in. “That guard over by that pillar, distract him at the end of the night. He’s a little too close.”

“Understood.”

“I almost forgot to introduce myself!” He immediately went back to his act. “I’m Fischer, Lucas Fischer.”

“Igor Ivanov,” Idris answered. “This here is Natasha.”

Leo nodded, smiled, clinked glasses with Idris and Saya, then swiftly moved on.

Soon the ballroom became filled with dancers, Yelena showed up with Izzy last, dressed in her glistening red dress, a crimson rose in her hair bun. Of course, the guards can’t see it—their roses are special.

The conductor of the band stood up, addressed the dancers about their setlist, and the music began.

The beautiful tunes and crisp notes filled the ballroom, leading the dancers on and moving their feet to the rhythm.

They started slow with a gentle waltz, then a slightly faster one, then to songs that Idris had never heard before.

“What now?” Saya asked.

“Just move your feet!”

So, they just moved to the rhythm as much as they could. In their chaos, their feet clashed a few times, and Saya stumbled over her dress more than once. But with the music and the crowd, no one except Idris took notice.

Music and dancing make the time pass too fast. Idris stole a look at the grandfather clock in the corner and realized that Edwardo would be showing up soon.

As the song came to an end, he looked up to the top of the central staircase and saw a lone figure standing there.

The others noticed too, and all watched as the man began slowly descending the stairway.

“Who’s that?” Saya whispered.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Our contract.”

*****

Julius stood atop the pointed tip of the cathedral spiral near the center of the city, balanced on one foot, high above the busy streets and flickering lights.

He watched the Schulz estate from afar, just a dimly lit speck at the edge of the city.

Though his eyes can barely differentiate the different windows of the massive mansion, his clairvoyance allows him to have a bird’s eye view over the entire compound.

All was going well, the music had been playing for a while, and Edwardo should soon be making his appearance.

Perimeter had already been established around the mansion long before the ball began, and several eyes watched the movements of the guards at all times.

He felt his hair stand up as the air around him became filled with magic.

There are several guards in the ballroom, we might need to have some distractions or have a way of neutralizing them.

That voice in his head is Sandra, projecting her thoughts to him all the way from the mansion with her telepathy.

He didn’t quite have a way of replying, since the distance was far too great for him to differentiate between the individuals crammed into the ballroom. Carelessly searching around for Sandra could alert a skilled mage to the use of magic, and possibly raise suspicions.

So he just had to think of a reply, and hope that Sandra would be able to read it from his mind.

Don’t use force, distractions will probably be enough. Don’t complicate the plan even more.

A second passed, and once again he felt the magic in the air.

Understood.

Sandra’s reply came.

Has Edwardo shown up yet?

No.

He checked his pocket watch. The time was getting late, their intel seemed to have been a little off. But he didn’t worry too much, the grumpy old man was probably taking a little longer to put on his clothes or something.

The night air was cold and windy this high up, making him a little shivery despite wearing a long jacket. He could see the river estuary, shimmering in the moonlit distance, and smell the faintest scent of fish and salt in the breeze.

Because of his age, he now rarely executes assassinations, leaving it instead to the younger, fitter seniors. Nowadays, he usually acts as the overseer, a mastermind of sorts, watching over the entire operation, making sure everything goes as planned.

They would usually have many separate groups operating simultaneously. Security makes sure the area remains clear of problematic people, the assassination team undertakes the infiltration and killing, and the logistics team prepares transport for a swift extraction after the contract is complete. A skilled telepath is attached to every group so that they can always communicate with each other if needed.

Tonight was no different. Juno’s team held the perimeter around the mansion, Yelena’s team was at the ball for the assassination, and their logistics group was spread out through the city, with wagons ready at various meeting points, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Now, all he had to do, was wait for the good news from Sandra.

Or the bad.

As he looked back out towards the edge of the city, the Schulz estate had disappeared. The bright lights from the ballroom windows were extinguished, and the entire compound was now shrouded in darkness, hidden in the night.

Something was wrong.

Immediately, he projected his clairvoyance into the distance, his powerful magic carving a path through the sky.

But he could see nothing aside from chaos.

Total chaos.

*****

All eyes were upon the man as he slowly descended the stairway, the ballroom now eerily quiet compared to just a moment before.

Idris looked on as well, but something felt a little off.

The man’s eyes were fixed upon them, scanning the room intently. There seemed to be a fire in his eyes, a fire Idris didn't expect a grumpy old man like Edwardo to have.

Perhaps he's a little tense, a little anxious about the dance. It would make sense for a rather reclusive man like him to feel awkward in front of so many people.

But Saya, standing next to him, sensed something was off too. She gently tugged on his sleeve, making him lean close to her mouth.

“He’s weird,” she whispered. “Something isn’t right.”

“Maybe he’s just a little shy.”

As Schulz stepped onto the dance floor, the musicians prepared to play again. Idris looked around at the others, who were all going back to their act of being strangers meeting for the first time at a party.

“Hey, stop looking at him,” whispered Idris, giving Saya a gentle nudge.

But she remained staring at Schulz, her eyes not moving a single inch.

“Is something else wrong?”

Saya nodded slightly.

Having a rather large reserve of mana, Saya has an especially strong connection with the surrounding free mana, and as such, is more sensitive to changes in effect power and imbalances in the free mana. Often, this results in her having almost precognition-like abilities, though it really is just her detecting changes in her surroundings earlier than others. At one point she had considered specializing in tracking but found it too boring.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s using magic. Strong magic...”

“Maybe it’s one of us?”

“No…”

“How do you…” he tried to ask.

But before he could, the hairs on his forearms tingled ever so slightly. Magic was flowing from somewhere to somewhere else. Magic which isn’t supposed to be there.

The others seemed to have noticed too, and began searching for the source of the disturbance.

Idris reached out for Saya, wanting to peel her away and head further towards the edge of the ballroom.

As his fingers touched the fine fabric of her dress, the chandeliers illuminating the room were snuffed out all at once, plunging the dancers into darkness.

“Greetings, my friends,” Schulz began to speak. “Welcome.”

In the tiny amount of moonlight seeping through the big crystal windows, Idris could see Schulz reach down into his belt and pull out a shiny metallic object.

From Idris’ angle, with the moonlight behind him, he could see the barrel of a flintlock pistol, gleaming in the darkness, slowly leveled at the crowd.

“Welcome to my estate, fellow dancers and partygoers,” he continued. “Or, might I say, the assassins of Rose, am I correct?”

Without thinking, Idris grabbed Saya and dove to the ground as a bang echoed through the ballroom, the muzzle flash like lightning in a storm.

The band began, and music filled the air once more as deadly chaos descended upon the dancers.

It would truly be a party to remember, for all the wrong reasons.