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Cainhurst was foul. As foul as everywhere else. The blood had erupted there as well. A festering boil that had enveloped the province. Its queen was kind. She was odd but he was odd. They were odd. Pyek did not mind her. The queen adored him. She sent him on missions and he did what...

There is no beast greater than an ambitious man. He looked at his former comrade. He was mad. The scourge had taken him. It would take all. Pyek took it upon himself to stop them: the fallen hunters. The hunters who became the beasts they were sworn to fight. In his hand, his scythe's...

He had grown fond once. Eileen. The girl's name was Eileen. He had liked her since he saw her slay a boil-covered beast. They got along well enough. Both wore similar masks. She had found her own cloak. One that looked like his. They slayed together. They spoke. The girl's name was...

He woke with the night. His steps were silent. They carried him far and fast. He dodged from one shadow to the next. He lived with the beasts he killed. His scythe was faster than a snake's strike. He could behead anything before it tried to speak his name. "Pyek Barron." A growl...

Life was simple. His duty was clear. He was a hunter. His job was to protect the people from beasts that roamed the night streets. Monsters who wore the face of other men and women. His family was not close. They fought among themselves often. The two who had conscripted him had...

Hours passed. Perhaps a few days. He wished for food but the painful cramps were familiar. Almost comforting. A door opened. He was awake. He sat up. "The boy has a name." The footsteps were fast. They came to him and the man pulled him up. "The boy has a name and a family." "No...

The room echoed. There were two people before him. He could hear their breathing. The beggar leaned on his staff and waited. He had followed. "Who is the boy?" "No one." He fell as the woman kicked away his staff. He laid on the ground. "What is his name?" It was the man. "He...

The visits were frequent. They alternated between a woman and a man. He was unsure who they were. What they looked like. The boy had grown a beard. It had been weeks (perhaps months) since the trials had started. Life on the street had become normal. Begging for food, sleeping on stone...

Footsteps. They were quiet. His head lifted. The man, Pieter, was clad in only rags. He wielded a wooden staff and nothing more. He sat up. The footsteps approached and then stopped. They were a few feet away. Something hit the side of his head and he cried out. A woman's voice made...

"That... is why I had not spoken to you about it." He didn't appear to be nearly as amused by this as Fienelef did. Lafayette shouldn't have been surprised. Not many women reciprocated things when he felt as such. Of course.. he had only truly loved a person a handle of times in his life. At...

He'd nearly forgotten about that. Parting words were always spoken in desperation. Something had compelled him to say such a thing, but he wasn't sure he was ready to say it now. Not now that Fienelef would be staying longer. To have her know, to have her not reciprocate--the discomfort that...

With a quiet chuckle, he held out a hand, gesturing down the hall; signalling they should walk and talk. "I am always willing to talk with you, mademoiselle. What is it you need?" He quirked a brow, comfortably holding his hands behind his back as they began walking towards the quarters.

"Yes. Absolutely." He seemed to have been pulled out of the boiler by her words. Turning to his desk he blinked as if trying to get his eyesight back before grabbing his plate. Calder didn't think of telling her to have a good night. Though he wanted her to, it didn't come to mind. Instead he...

Calder chuckled, shaking his head. "No, you're just being honest." He yawned, loudly, and rubbed his eye. "I'm sure there are more marriages such as yours than true, good marriages." He was afraid of over stepping a boundary, but he wanted to voice his opinion on some things. Perhaps that...

"Holy crap." His brows were raised; the expression on his face one of genuine sympathy and surprise. Calder felt bad that he hadn't picked up on any of the clues. He should have noticed something like that. "If it makes you feel any better, my marriage wasn't much better, but.. I think...

"Really?" That had Calder's brows raising. He.. really hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary with them. Perhaps that was the odd thing. "You guys always seemed like you were the perfect marriage." He snorted. "God, and to think I envied you."

He snorted. "It's not all that bad. Keeping the clinic running will keep me busy enough. Good distraction." He yawned quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. After the mad rush of people to be mended, he was pretty beat. The meal wasn't helping his case any, either. "I, uh.. was...

He deadpanned her when she posed the question. Accepting the glass, he downed it quickly. Setting the now-empty cu down on the desk, he sighed; relaxing back in his chair. "No, I wasn't." He so desperately wanted to leave it at that but he knew she wouldn't be satiated. "I bought it for my...

He looked at the bottle, brow furrowing slightly. After quickly chewing the bite of steak in his mouth and swallowing it, he nodded. "Just a bit, though." "And, yes... It seems like it's been a long time. Longer than I think it should. We've been in here a few hours and it already feels like...

"Huh." For the life of him, Calder really had no idea why she would fib about something like that. He really did enjoy her baking. In fact, her occasional trip to his house had had him growing an infatuation for the woman. One he never acted on, thanks to her being married. Part of it was her...