A DARK GIFT

Inspired by Blades in the Dark

The soft sputtering of a gas streetlamp was the only mortal sound in this crooked,

deserted lane. Farther down Bell Street, the echoing sounds of merriment from the Harping Monkey promised flowing drink, and good company.

The flame danced thin, fitful shadows across the lonely street corner it guarded.

The muffled gritty click of boot heels on old cobblestone punctuated by the arrogant tap of a cane broke the evening’s quiet.

It sauntered forward and stopped at the corner, inhaling the Night Market air, eyes flashing under a fine top hat. A smirk revealing one sharp fang, as It reveled in the heady perfume of even the mundane on this side of the veil. Old wood, cool stone, stale beer, muddy wash water. A new scent wafted across his senses. A faint perfume of blousy coast roses, leather, vanilla and sandalwood… a hint of vetiver. Finely crafted. Its eyes flashed again.

Sensing another presence approaching, the form quietly but swiftly receded back whence it came with a sound like burning embers, into a darker shadow.

The lithe figure of Jessamina stepped into the lane and stopped, making a small show of fussing with a lace-trimmed reticule, and smoothing skirts of muted ebony silk, but really, giving herself time to check behind her for passersby.

Assuring herself she was alone, she sent out her senses, gingerly searching beyond what can be seen. Beyond the shadows and into the ethereal plane. Sometimes her watchers weren’t on the corporeal cobblestones her feet normally tread.Her eyes flashed a Lavender glow, goosebumps trilling up her arms, as she let her senses expand with arcane energy and reached across the veil.

Her spirit mask, a deceptively simple fall of black lace from a riding topper, did little to hide the change. She preferred it that way. Ethical, she thought, to let others know when she was doing a working. She reminded herself she needed something a bit more clandestine for nights like this.Tendrils of her long pale hair lifted ghost-like on the swell of magic, as she felt along the local ley lines for any sign of hidden trouble.

Somewhere down a back-lane trace, a dog barked, sensing her work, calling a lazy warning to the peaceful night.To her arcane sight, everything was also quiet. Spectral forms appeared, dimly, as she only sent out a small lift of magic this time.

The floating figures of a few teen aged boys and a tired looking older woman in a threadbare bonnet, turned their ghostly eyes her way, as they sensed the planar rift, wary of their own idea of trouble this side of the unliving. Recognizing her, they settled down and resume a languid game of ball and stick, now that they knew they were relatively safe. She gave a neighborly nod to the woman, who returned it in acknowledgment. Nothing yet. Good, she thought, releasing the energy and instinctively making the shift back to this side of the veil and present time. A raven landed on the curve of the lamp post, softly grawking at her in what seemed like a greeting. She smiled, and gave it a slight nod as the glow faded from her gaze, her hair settling back down in soft waves across a fine black velvet half-cloak.She picked up her pace again, relieved for the moment that she moved unseen. Careful not to rush or draw unneeded attention, yet not lingering in this shadow heavy area of NightMarket. Turning the corner into a broader, more colorful avenue dotted with mischief-hungry revelers, she realized she’d been holding her breath. She took a relieved inhale, straightened her shoulders, and set about organizing her mind on the next tasks at hand. As her trailing black skirts fished around the turn, behind her, in the alleyway, a pair of eyes flash lavender in the dark. The raven croaked once more, landed on the cobbles, titling its head in a question, then hop-hopped into the dark towards the one waiting there. Watching.

Arcane energy flickers like lightning through the patterns of cobblestones as magic erupts from the space Jessamina had just occupied. In the spot where the veil had closed, spectral hands, large and quick seem to catch the edges and stop it from seaming back together.

An alarmed grawk from the raven as it flutters backward, watching as the seam of the veil between planes is torn back open.

A tall spectral figure steps through the rift it’s made, dark magic crackling like embers along the edges of the broken ley line. The spectral outline of this creature glows faintly in the shadows as it takes stock of its surroundings. Its Unworldly shine fades as it takes on a corporeal guise.

The magic dissipates.

The raven, still staring, shakes itself and flies back atop to the lamp post.

The tall elegant figure of a man looks up to the raven, gives a low chuckle, flashing one slightly pointed incisor, in a sideways grin, tips his hat, and follows the woman’s path. He can easily see the glow of where she’s gone, even if mortals can’t.

The raven outstretches its wings, in protest or grudging salute, one can’t be sure, but remains atop the lamp post’s finial. The gentleman scoffs softly, with a low rumble, “Oh that conversation will be had…. Later.”A low rumbling croak is the raven’s reply.“But now….to a purpose….and a bit of… esoteric delight.”He steps off the curb and makes his way towards the busier avenues….and to her.

It’s about time they met…again. His nostrils flare as he catches her perfume again and imagines their next meeting. “Won’t she be surprised….”The raven remains, vigilant, as the muffled gritty click of boot heels on old cobblestone fade away on the evening air.