Herosae Kitsune: Chapter 3

The sun fell covered by liquid scrims, Aera was much more busy than either of them hoped for. Good word since the night before tripled their service. The odd face from the night before returned for an encore. Still setting set behind the hills, golden skies turned to dark purple, the land illuminated by the night life.

“I managed to reserve the next half hour, but I don't think I can really do this too often.” Aera mentioned sitting down with Sarephel. “It's not very responsible of me, my staff could probably think more of it.”

“Sounds like everyone is pretty busy.” Ears tilted a glance.

“Too busy, I feel a little guilty leaving them alone but I'd rather not get my head chewed off by them in the crossfire either. No one is used to working under pressure like this.”

“They can make a mean soup bowl though.” Sarephel admired heartily.

Aera chuckled. “Just a bunch of low class girls who made their way up here with skill.”

Sarephel pulled herself into her knees “I remember when Halana used to work at The Eel, she used to favour me quite a lot.” She reminisced

“Yeah, because you made sure I got home safely. She had no problems handling people but I never really grew up like she did, so... She's in charge right now, she'd got the most experience, everyone else just lived in the same apartment.”

“I forget,” Sarephel asked, falling into Aera's shoulder. “Weren't you the one who taught them how to cook?”

“Ha...” Aera brushed off. “They taught me a lot too. Halana would come by every so often, and everyone would gather around to watch her make things. She should have stuck to making drinks though, so, really we all taught each other.” Unable to take the credit.

“And I used to sneak you some cook books.”

“And I would sneak food out of The Eel's kitchen because I couldn't afford most the things in that book.” Aera smiled mischievously. “All those times back then, and look at me now. Kitchen thief to head chef.”

Both of them fell silent. They leaned together knowing this moment had been long time coming, the day where all the past actually felt like the past. Small traces of light lit the edges of the sky, lights all before them. Many homes and farms in the distance gave mystery to the forest and the sky started to speckle the same. Below them the lake began to glow as every night. Deep beneath the fog, power generators were hard at work delivering energy to the whole tower. Lights shifted through the mist like a second ocean, calmly stroking the eyes like tilde waves of soft fleece babies blankets. In the distance, even the cities far away began to glow in the atmosphere. Their view from this high up was astonishing.

“You know, it's even more amazing from the top of the tower.” Sarephel mentioned.

Softly enchanted, Aera asked “You've been there?”

“Many times. Daddy used to take me there a lot because he liked to look at the stars too. It's pretty cold that high up.”

“I can imagine. Down below it was pretty warm, but that is mostly due to the generators down there. It's actually kinda chilly here.”

Sarephel rubbed Aera's arms to warm them. “Dad and I had to wear special coats when we were on the roof. It's only as big as your restaurant because of structure or something. It's why Great Grandpa Herosae couldn't make it any taller.”

“How tall was this tower again?” Digging into Sarephel's neck

“I think it was one hundred and ninety three officially, but not many people are allowed to know that.” She recalled, still amazed herself. “Roughly almost four thousand feet tall.”

“That is a long way to go up. I mean it takes like five minutes just to get here from my apartment... Do you ever think your dad will let me go up there with you two one of these nights?”

“I don't know. It's been forever since I've gone up there. The last time I think I was still a little girl.”

“I would love to see the world from up there. I know that it's a lot to ask for but you always need some kind of dream.”

“Yeah.” Sarephel replied “I would like...” Interupted by the vibration of a little devil “...That... OH YOU'VE GOT TO BE FLIPPING KIDDING ME!”

“What?!” Aera rose annoyed. “Weren't you going to turn that off?”

Seraphel dropped the PDA beside her abruptly. “I was...” and tilted back uncomfortably.

“Can it wait?”

“I wish...” Sarephel breathed beside another rumble. Her eyes dropped like needles. “Oh, and he has the gull to pester me again so I don't miss the first one... Call... Trac... Bad track record.” She recited. “Burn him.” She wished, dropping the PDA again.

“So it can?” Aera assumed before a long pause. “Great.”

“I've been summoned,” Sarephel huffed, patriotically. “He found something only I” She emphasized. “Can help with.”

“Come on! I still got twenty minutes left!”

“Don't think I'm happy about it either.” Sarephel slumped back to her knee caps. Aera cheeks drooped sympathetically. “Well.” Sarephel rose. “I got work.” Leaving the balcony.

“When are we going to have time, without work taking you away?” Aera called.

“You know who your dating. Trouble never rests...” She tossed out prophetically unamused. “I'll come by and check out your new place soon alright? Make sure to leave some muffins by the dresser alright?”

“You'll turn your tablet off this time, right?”

Making a silly face as she turned and smiled. “It's already off.” Sarephel showed, revealing the shutdown screen and continued prancing away.

“And do try to leave him in one piece.

“No promises.”

Crisp evening dew breezed her free fall as Sarephel cut trail down her family's legacy. It wasn't a simple as taking the elevator down, but it was a lot faster. Her eyes voided in memory, Aera was probably right as Sarephel contemplated whether or not she was too judgemental of her new partner. Whether she liked it, he was awaiting her down below by the transit exchange. Rising to meet her, the ground floors spread out from the basin with roads running out of them. Night vendors' lanterns waved to visitors in the fortuitous breeze as another train entered to dock.

Carrying with the wind, Sarephel followed into the station, inconclusively fixing her face as she viewed security post. Before it stood two men, one an older gentleman who dressed for the evening shift and talking to the other, a man who could only be gentle if he tried. The second man took notice. “Your early.”

All composure returned to it's dormant state. “Your annoying.” Sarephel issued.

Garath lifted his arm and shoulders while facing the guard, shrugging some unspoken language and returned to her.

Unimpressed, Sarephel got straight to work. “What's the job.”

“Little private business. We're taking the eleven fifty five to Kalklen and I'll brief you then.”

“More stealth wizardry, espionage and double agents stuff?” Sarephel patronized.

“Protocal.”

She nodded, looking at her watch. “So, I get to stand around here with you for another half hour before I get to hear about the big surprise.”

Garath began to groan, creasing the bridge of his nose “Can we cut the crap and try to keep it civil while we're stuck working together?”

“If it means you won't talk to me on the bus.”

Chuckles came from behind. “I'd love to stay here and see how this goes, but my break is over. Good luck with whatever.” The security guard favoured, budding his ash as he left.

The lanterns swayed with the burden of steel track, passing the eleven fifty five. Quiet cars hummed the line across the open lake towards it's closest shores, following an overgrown woodland black out. “So, spill.” Sarephel requested impatiently.

Garath pulled out his case. “In a moment, I'm waiting the attendant to bring a drink so they can leave us alone.” He said mannerly.

Sarephel retracted her posture into contempt bordom, soon following the arrival of the train staff. “Refreshments?” The lady offered.

“A Glale Sparkling.”

“As you wish.” Reaching for the undercarriage bottle. “Twelve, or twenty ounce?”

“Twenty... And for yourself.” Garath directed to the unattentive fox.

Sarephel looked back with a sheen of thirst. “Dragless Ale.”

“Before a job?” Garath half mothering, blurted.

Mockingly he was returned with a plaster face and the remark “It'll help me focus.”

“I thought we cut that.” Garath politely retorted.

“Oh look, your talking to me.”

“I asked if you wanted anything.” He mentioned a volume louder

“You ain't my boss.”

“What does that do with anything?

“Two ales.” Sarephel motioned, ignorantly returning to the argument, leaving the poor attendant to carry on unphased and move up to the next room.

A few stabs in, Garath closed the curtain. “Kay, this is the follow up.” He started, replied with a confirming nod. “Good. I need your brawn for this mission.”

“I'm not a weight lifter.”

“Sorry, your combat expertise.” He corrected, jerking back on topic. “When I went into the aperture, everything was just as blatantly as you described it, with a minor variation. It was pretty ominous, I'll give it that; like going into a time lock. Plane walls, turf carpet empty, space and marked up walls. Nothing legible but it was definitely used. Kind of, you weren't kidding about those stairs, nearly took my head off on those things when they gave way.”

“To think if I trusted them for a moment.”

“Not sure who could use those, pretty sure I woke the neighbourhood up with it too.” Garath admitted guiltily. “Well, when I made my way down the other levels they turned out just as dreadfully empty. I found another door though, not too pleased with what I found. Inside was a used lab. I swabbed around and got some fresh samples, papers there were messy to sort through. Then I came across some liquid aether, real old science stuff. When the samples came back, it turned positive for Meji Khloe, a long standing member of our black list.”

“So, are they using that lab to brew and supply inside?”

“Not sure actually. That's why we're on our way to capture him. All this time he's been suspected of heading a mafia but he's kept it good and low. Haven't needed to grab him, til now.”

“And you can't catch him yourself, why?”

“Our lead suggests he's in a local gambling house for celebrations, top floor. Currently, it's swarming with crooks and shifty eyed sort, hunch says he ain't using the front door in, so catching him walking is why we ain't got him yet.”

“And I come in how?”

“Break up the party.”

“I like the sounds of that.” Sarephel agreed, legs crossed and leaning outward.

“Cause panic, scare them all out of there, make as much uproar as you can. Once I get a match on him, I'll swoop down, assuming you don't cave his face in first.”

“What happens if he's not there?”

“Then we go in and secure the lab, but we're on a timer. Worst case, they close up shop and relocate. It doesn't fix the problem but it gets it out of there.”

“Any stipulations?”

“Do your stuff, try not to kill anyone unless you have to. It's not that kind of operation.”

“Will there be an in-flight movie on the way back?” She asked, taking a good swallow.

“Yes, it will be me, clapping my hands. Try not to goof around.”

Chill draft poured off the midnight glass like liquid gas, awakening her sensory. Sarephel stared intently out into the abysmal twilight passing her sight. Each tree, every leaf became still frames, pale lit figures. For a moment, the tight passage opened into lake; tranquil bright moonbeams reflecting the breeze skimmed ripples of the evening tide. Livid eyes and pin straight fur, the conduit of night's energy flowing out into the train care. Garath, who's eyes fell back on his partner felt himself open every pour. Before catching himself, his adrenaline tainted his senses in some primal level of flight. Her concentration could dulling a knife. Reassuring himself, his sweat dried. Sarephel was serious after all.

“There it is.” He motioned barely audible, following the synthetic clay tile of a nearby roof, moonlight laminating the side of his skinsuit. “Best entrance would be the vent, following the windows beneath.”

“Signal.” Sarephel demanded.

“Working.” He confirmed, taking his eyes back down again.

“You know who you are looking for.”

“Just find him.” Eyes still fixated on his screen.

As the wind blew, she was gone. One dark figure into the night, the tracking steady to catch up. Unexplainably she was in. Black was occasionally followed by dim brown light corners and flashes of white, however she moved it was hard to follow on screen. Only for a second, she saw someone; a man leaning the wall with a cigarette, void expression of carried thoughts and open weakness, seemingly alone. She continued, clearly now traversing the rafters, occasionally finding holes in the ceiling. Sound echoed the nightlife, laughter and slurred speech. One individual identified himself among the rest, riddled with 'grey venom'. His stuttered words pausing as his adamant voice hollered soft dying breaths of some irrelevant opinions he had. If she ever forgot the sight of addicts, Sarephel would be direly ill herself. Large beams joined the wooden big top like spiders vantage over the lot.

*describe the patrons*

“I can't see him quite yet.” The bird on the wire informed. “Stay low, you're not completely hidden. These men are shifty, they can spot oddities easily.” Men looking almost directly at her, somehow not noticing.

“What about going loud?” Silence fell Sarephel's reminder.

“There. In the second table along the left wall.” Garath directed. “Advoe 'Clear', he's a man associated with Meji Khloe, starting there is your best bet.”

Before he could finish. Sarephel descended, kicking off the beam through the centre of a worn table, she grabbed a bottle still falling down the splintered sink hole and tossed it. The noise took everyone's attention, as with the two swift kicks made out to the surrounding patrons skinny mugs, adding a few more scars to their features. One of the men who had faced away at Advoe's table found the flying bottle and received his present as it made diplomatic contact with his head. Men from all around sprang to their feet, furiously drawing sword and blunt weapon alike. A swordsmen approached, grabbing the heel treadled man's sword, Sarephel stole it from his face clasped blindness and quickly parried. The ground met the swordsman with a busted rib and the family crest of a crooks hilt tattooed along his unbuttoned abdomen. The other tripped, back over a chair in his stooper to strike the swift footed fox.

Garath transferred roofs and began to view the feed in a choppy frame rate, his software stopping the video to catch the faces of Sarephel's very own party. Many wanted criminals showed themselves, none were Meji.

Quickly a circle had formed around her, Sarephel impatient of waiting lunged into the crowd taking one guest off guard as he fell over top of her. A man was redirected and kicked off as his punch flew into the growing stack of angry spectators, away from Sarephel. Her elbow made surprise upheaval to one contenders chin and a back flying kick to anothers' pelvis before they received a complementary headache. People were piling in, some still watching to see what opposition had started the riot. Someone reached behind Sarephel and tried to restrain her but let go after her flexible foot flong forward, breaking the bridge of his nose and her grip took over, grappling him over her side. Some guests began to exit, Sarephel's crowd thinning out the cowards and the abandoned followers. Between the circle ramble that broke, one man stood trying to figure her face.

“That's him!” Garath affirmed, assuming to the relative exits below him. “Finish them off if you can.”

Sarephel chuckled manically as goon after goon fell crippled or walked away injured. Some appeared to be carrying side arms, but couldn't fire into the field with gang tensions as casualties. As the confidant dropped out, the skilled became more common. Two criminals, a man and a woman struck as one, forcing Sarephel to fall back onto a retorting weapon, dodging with broken table legs until coming into a fallen sword and a gun. Pulling out the automatic, both warriors flinched, exposing their weakness in melee. She disarmed one to parry the other and in close proximity knock her victim unbalanced. When they rose they were greeted with front row seat to the batters swing. Outraged, the partner flung to a forward high kick but docked in transit, Sarephel caught it flying out. Locking the ankle she spun low, wrenching his leg and pulling him off balance to the floor where his future children felt the pain of her heel between his thighs.

With her adversaries thinning as they were, one man pulled his automatic out but lost use of his arm when Sarephel caught his intentions and blessed him with a flying sword. By the time he realized to switch hands, he was face to face with his reaper and dropped the sub to the floor in submission to her seeping aura. On certain terms, he was in the clenches of unstoppable terror. Five men remained, each approaching armed with automatics. Sarephel fell onto the rafters, leaving the cowering leaky faucet to leave a peach trail as he crawled away. In the clamour of her escape, Sarephel singled out a single man, taking him from her balcony like a flying steel needle. Before the four could react, she fell behind the pillar, nest to pick off her flies again in her spiders dance. Tension taught the tread around their trigger fingers and shot paranoid at the flying object tossed out of the network rafters. On the other side, following the side beam, Sarephel emerged grappling the gunman's arm, and directing his fire back to his partner's grip, watching the gun fall down. Before the other gunslinger could return fire, Sarephel left her hostage unconscious beside the support..

“We can do this without guns.” The last gunslinger compromised. “No more swooping eagle crap... Just... One, on one, no bullet holes, no bloody hands... I can tell you aren't here to kill people, just, come out. See...” She called, holding her gun by the barrel. Assuming her audiences attention “No more guns.” She said dropping the peace maker.

“I'm glad we can come to an understanding.” Sarephel obliged from behind, cracking her neck. One unfortunate victim rose up, clinging to their second chance merely for vengeance. He rushed Sarephel, stumbling, his body vibrating. Sarephel scampered away koi, dangling off the rafter, the intoxicated man underneath trying to grab her legs. Letting go, she locked her legs around his shoulders, tumbling him forward head first into the wall with both their weight. Using his weight to slide underneath, she recovered running to see the last person backing away slowly, turning and running into a swordsman who made his entrance by spinning the awol deserter off his shoulder.

The swordsman cracked his joints in preparation and watched his footing as he approached cautiously, meticulously studying her. They danced the centre room following his opening move. Sarephel retrieved a broken wood chair to guard. His swing flew into the wood, catching the blade. With a jerk he retrieved his swing. They danced again, this time he lunged, faked and stepped in to catch her open arm with a falling left strike. She moved, pulling away to centralize her block to his new footing as his blade cut fresh gashes into the wood and fell out preparing to strike again. He swooped from below, trying to break her guard but Sarephel held strong. Knowing that he almost stunned her, he spun around as to strike from above but instead thrusted straight through to the heart. With a step to the side, Sarephel trapped the lunge and twisted her sword trap, stripping the blade from his hands. She closed the gap, as he struggled to regain his stance, pulling back to keep distance.

Looking around, he left to retrieve a fine sword as a replacement. Upon pickup, Sarephel had acquired his own sword and tossed it down between them, dethroned from it's mutilated chair scabbard. They made their way closer, circling the taunt before them. As he got closer Sarephel did too. He leaped for his blade, bracing his loaner into the trap and put Sarephel at bay, then another movement to grasp his extended arm. As he dipped down Sarephel baited his swing, pulling him up to follow her evade behind him. With his arm loaded in place, he returned his blade to her blindly being caught in more broken furniture that braced his handle, and her off hand snapping his fully extended elbow. Gritting great pain, the warriors sword dropped again.

Outraged, the swordsman threw in a swift punch but was redirected into Sarephel's knee, breaking his lower ribs. As he fell limp she pulled his arm behind his back, dropping all his rag doll force into the twisted shoulder joint and cries leaked out of his hardened spirit. His head tilt back to his divinity, and answering his prayers the front of Sarephel's foot joint came thrusting his skull backwards, cracking the floor as his crippled mass drilled him into the polished wood.

The grey venom addict, still arguing, uncounted for in the back too stoned to move continued his verbal dispute. “Y-y-ye'ua not-na-nat tso toufff, thu, thu... Th-th-thite me...ee...” Twisting with vigour.

“How's to going there?” Sarephel whispered into her receiver.

“All good,” Garath confirmed. “Target acquired, you stirred it up real good in there. Randavu at Kella Korner alleyway.”

“And witnesses?”

“Witnesses? If they ain't fighting, don't worry about them.”

Sarephel grabbed a piece of scrap wood as she walked up to the rambling addict, placing it in his hand. With a single step out, he fell flat on his face and fumbled to get back up again. “Coast is clear.” She announced, sauntering away.

“These friends of yours?” Sarephel asked, wandering up.

“Team eight, their escorting him personally up to interrogation. From there it's in their hands, until they call us that is.”

Raising the brows of her slanted eyes to complain. “Then we need to wait, huh?”

“It means we can sleep tonight. It's good that everyone got a beating in there, no one knows if it was a sting, or gang related. In this district, it's likely the later.”

“That means we sleep how?”

“Ain't nothing we can do now. I suggest you get some rest.” He said waving her off.

Tilting her head with his departure. “You're not heading back yet?”

“You gonna miss me?” Garath patronized. Sarephel dishonoured his response. “I'm taking care of the paperwork so you don't have to.”

“Better not say anything bad about me.”

“Don't you have a girlfriend to get back to?”

She did, but the with the late hour, “I won't be back til one thirty even with the earliest train” Sarephel confined to herself. “And that waitavator. She's going to be asleep already...” She staggered to the side, gazing down the ally, ears drooping. “She shouldn't be waiting up for me. The street outside was closed down for the evening, their mats stored away for the night. “I could get her something to cheer her up if anything was open... Maybe we'll come out for a visit, she does want to visit the country side. Just, not this country side.”