Her angel eyes saw the good in many devils

Her footsteps echoed through the narrow alleyway she was passing, the air smelling like damp stone and freshly baked bread. There was a faint trace of herbs tickling her nose; probably from her work at the temple. Voices echoed between tall buildings, mingling with the soft thumping of her heartbeat. Though, the latter was purely in her head. Surely, nobody else could hear her pulse like that. Right? Her ears perked up when she heard the slow melody of a flute somewhere to her left. Above, the astral lanterns glowed softy; either filled with magic crystals, magic or small, glowing bugs. It seemed pale and star-like, even in daylight.

Tia adjusted her grip on the bouquet pressed carefully against her chest. White and pale silver flowers spilled between her fingers; a few stems already bent from how tightly she’d been holding them. Just to make extra sure that she wasn’t going to lose them.
Like she’d found herself right now. Lost. Again. She really should’ve known the way by now. One might think, anyway. After a few years in this city, she still managed to stray from the right path – constantly. It would be frustrating to others, but Tia didn’t mind. She enjoyed seeing new sides of her home, discovering corners of Luminar she had never seen before. Meeting new people.
The graveyard beyond Luminar’s southern edge was far enough removed from the city that most people avoided it entirely, but she had walked there often enough over the years that getting lost should no longer have been possible. And yet she now stood at another unfamiliar crossing, staring at the branching streets as if they might rearrange themselves out of pity.
Perhaps she should have asked for directions earlier.

A cloudcat brushed past her ankles, its pale fur catching the lantern light before it leapt effortlessly onto a nearby windowsill. How she loved these creatures. Tia watched it for a moment before her attention drifted toward a little girl sitting beside a market stall, rubbing at cold-reddened fingers while struggling with a basket nearly half her size.
Without giving it a second thought, Tia pulled two smaller flowers from her bouquet and crouched to hand them over. The girl blinked at her suspiciously at first, then accepted them with careful hands, as though flowers could somehow break.
“They last longer in water”, Tia explained softly.
A few streets later, she pressed the remainder of her bread into the hands of an elderly man wrapped in patched wool, despite knowing she would regret it once hunger caught up to her. Not long after, she stopped beside a weary-looking vendor and quietly handed her a small tin of herbal salve for burned skin. The woman looked startled before thanking her repeatedly. Tia only offered a faint smile and slipped away before the conversation could properly begin.
Senán would have laughed at her for it. Not cruelly. Never that. You cannot possibly help everyone, Tia. His voice echoed in her ears, though she knew he was long gone. And yet, she thought, he had always watched me try.

She turned another corner – and walked directly into someone.
The collision startled the breath from her lungs. The bouquet slipped in her hands, several pale flowers tumbling between them onto the stone below.
“Oh”, she breathed, startled. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. “I’m sorry –” Heart stumbling unevenly in her chest, Tia looked up. Only for her eyes to widen noticeably. Good Gods. “I didn’t pay attention.” Evidently. Good job, Tia. “I sincerely apologize.” It didn’t even occur to her that he could’ve also watched his step better. Yet, she wasn’t that kind of person. Rather than that, she was quick to accept all the blame.

Alaric opened his eyes and the first thing his dark brown eyes landed on was the naked woman beside him. Slowly, he tried to pull away from her, but she was determined to keep him close. But the assassin had no time for this. He had a mission and needed to leave. Now.

“Sorry, my dear, but I need to go. Maybe we’ll see each other again?” he said with a sweet smile before grabbing his clothes and putting them on. Lastly, he searched for his long black cape until he found it underneath the bed. With his large hands, he picked it up and flicked the dust off the fabric.

“My apologies. I should really get going now, uhm…” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember her name, but clearly, he had forgotten it. Why should he even remember her name? He had better things to do than spent his time with random women.
The blonde gasped in outrage and tried to throw a pillow at him, but Alaric dodged it easily. He winked at her before walking out of the building and pulling on his gloves.

Running a hand through his black hair, he adjusted his clothes once more. His eyes carefully watched the people around him. After all, Alaric had a mission. He had to eliminate Ailbhe Tiarnaith and her father. But before he could kill them, he needed more information. He had to observe them. Especially the girl. She probably had many informations about her father and the temple. Poor girl had been the fiancée of Perez Arganta; the man Alaric had killed just a week or two ago in order to steal his identity and pretend to be the redhead’s fiancé.

As he turned the next corner, he spotted her immediately. Good thing he already had enough information and a picture of her to recognize her face. Usually, Alaric would never admit such a thing, but she was very pretty for a target. Her long copper-red waves, those piercing green eyes… and her lips. Alaric would surely have some fun with her before the young woman will die by his hands.

Smirking faintly, he watched her carefully. She wandered around rather cluelessly, yet still looked happy. And when she crouched down to hand two small flowers to a little girl, the older man rolled his eyes. Why would anyone ever give someone flowers? Or gifts in general? Alaric had learned very early in life that gifts had to be earned. They were rewards. You could not simply receive them out of generosity. That would be ridiculous. Was that Tiarnaith really that kind-hearted? That sweet? “Fine… At least she’ll be easy to fool,” he mumbled before sighing in disbelief.

A movement to the side caught his attention. A cloudcat. He crouched down to pet the fluffy creature, earning a soft purr in return. But the assassin had no time to waste. It was finally time to meet her properly. He stood up and walked toward her, bumping into her as innocently as possible. When Alaric heard her apology and noticed the blush spreading across her cheeks, a smirk tugged at his lips. Quickly, the black-haired man cleared his throat and switched to the accent her fiancé had used before his death. “Oh no, my dear. That was my fault,” he said smoothly. He crouched down to pick up one flower that had slipped from the bouquet. “What a pretty flower-” Slowly, he stood back up and tucked a strand of copper hair behind her ear. “- but not nearly as beautiful as the lady holding them.”
He twirled the flower between his fingers while watching her closely.
“You must have a very lucky man by your side. Though if I were him, I’d bring you more flowers and gifts than you could hold… even if none of them could ever compare to you.”

Even if someone would’ve told her what the man in front her was thinking, she wouldn’t have believed them – or at least have had a very hard time trying to do so. In her mind, she’d done nothing wrong; she had no knowledge of the dealings of her father’s business or schemes. There was no plausible reason for anyone to want her dead. In her eyes, at least. She tried to live every day to the fullest and spread joy where she had the chance to. The death of her late husband had shown her how fleeting life could be, and she wanted to treasure it. Which was also why she gave away what she could to help others. The thought that someone would question it was … the slightest bit unnerving, to say the least.

But this man … Looking at him didn’t make her think about these things. Not even for a split second. Her thoughts were racing, yes, and so was her heart. But more so because he was just so handsome that she didn’t know what to do with herself. Improper thoughts, Tia. Cut it out!, she reprimanded herself.
The smirk tugging at his lips didn’t escape her, but it got pushed into the back of her mind, because he was standing so Gods damned close to her. Quickly, she took a step back, grasping at the few flowers she hadn’t dropped yet. When she wanted to cut in – again insisting that she was the one at fault – he crouched, stopping her thought process. What was he …? Oh, the flowers! A bit saddened, she looked at them, scattered across the stone floor. As he stood, she belatedly realized that he was towering over her. Tia swallowed hard, not daring to flinch or move backwards as he reached out to touch her hair. But, by the Gods, she really wanted to. His presence was intimidating, to say the least. “I … It’s …”, she started stammering, unsure of what to even say to that. At least thank him for the compliment. She couldn’t; the words were stuck in her throat, which suddenly felt dry. The part of her ear that his fingers brushed briefly, felt like it was on fire. Gods, did he set her on fire?! More out of reflex than anything, she touched her own ear, making sure that it was, well, not on fire.

He was holding one of her flowers. “You can have one, if you want”, she offered, even if speaking felt terrible. Tia cleared her throat, his words and daring demeanour having caught her off guard. She wasn’t good at handling this sort of behaviour. So unfiltered, so … “He’s dead.” The words came out before she could stop them. Tia looked shocked having said them out loud, covering her mouth instinctively. “The person … They are for. He’s dead.” She had wanted to visit his grave, but maybe this stranger didn’t care about the loss of her husband. Slowly, she dropped her hand back to her side. “I fear that I am lost.” A statement, not a question. “Would you … Be able to tell me where the southern edge is?” Or was he not from around here? His accent sounded foreign. “I’m sorry. Asking that after bumping into you, I …” Tia lowered her gaze, staring at her shoes and the flowers around it. Were they … Wilting, or was she imagining things?

Alaric's smile remained effortlessly charming until the moment she offered him the flower. For the briefest second, something unexpected crossed his face. A gift? His dark eyebrow lifted slightly. The concept itself felt very strange. No one had ever given him flowers before. No… No one had ever simply handed him something because they wanted to. Gifts were transactions. Rewards. After all, everything came with a price. That was how the world worked. At least, that was how his world had always worked. Yet there she stood, cheeks still faintly pink, offering him one of the flowers she had intended to bring to a dead man. For a moment, Alaric didn't know what to do with it. It was just so… ridiculous.

Slowly, he accepted the flower. "That is very generous of you," he said smoothly, though the words felt oddly unfamiliar on his tongue. His gaze drifted to the pale blossom between his fingers as he gulped. Never had this ever happened before… And this flower was so… beautiful? So fragile. Just like her. And yet, it also felt pointless to the assassin. Because the exact kind of thing was something that he would never have paid attention to.
But then a petal detached and the older man's stomach dropped. The petal fluttered downward toward the ground, as it decayed. The flower was already beginning to wither beneath his touch. Most fragile things did, after all it was his power. His gift, he might call it. For assassins it was very much useful, but for others it could be dangerous.

Before Tia could notice anything, he stepped closer and gently lifted the flower. "Oh, I think this belongs somewhere else." Carefully, he tucked the blossom behind her ear. Just above the place she had touched moments ago. "There." His voice softened. "Much better." One corner of his mouth lifted. "The flower suits you far more than it ever could me." As he adjusted it, his gloved knuckles brushed lightly against her warm cheek. His hand lingered for only a fraction of a second before he withdrew it completely and clasped both hands behind his back. But when the younger girl spoke, his eyes widen for a mere second, before he blinked. Outwardly, he looked shocked, after he heard that her husband was dead. But inwardly, his mind immediately began working. Dead? Which one was she talking about? Her fiancé? Or her husband?

From what he had learned, the woman had suffered loss before. If she meant Perez... Well. That had been his doing. If she meant the other one, then that was simply information he heard about before. Either way, he needed clarification. He had killed Perez just a week ago and he made sure that the man stayed dead. No one could have known about the man being dead, unless someone had seen him. But he was alone… It was not possible. But he had to make sure to figure it out, or else, he might not be able to sleep the night and had to go back to see the old crime scene. "Oh." He tried to soften his expression immediately. "My deepest condolences. When did he pass away?" The question came perhaps a little too quickly.

Alaric compensated with a sympathetic smile. "I apologize if that is painful to speak about. You merely seem far too young to carry such grief." She looked genuinely saddened. Not suspicious or cautious. Gods, she really was trusting. The realization made his task easier and somehow more irritating.
Then she asked about the southern edge. Alaric nearly laughed. This woman probably managed to get lost in her own house. The thought amused him far more than it should have. Before she could start apologizing again, he reached for her hand and giving her every opportunity to pull away. When she didn't, his fingers closed gently around hers. He lowered his head, before his lips brushed lightly against her knuckles. The gesture was smooth and practiced, stolen from noblemen he had impersonated over the years.

"My lady," he said. "If you require assistance, then I would be honored to provide it." Straightening, he offered her another smile. The kind that had fooled guards, merchants, nobles and lovers alike. His thumb brushed lightly across the back of her hand before releasing it.
"I must confess," he had an almost sheepish smile on his lips, "I'm still rather new to the city myself." A complete lie. Because Alaric was born in the city. He knew shortcuts most citizens had never discovered. But Perez… Well, he had never stepped a foot into the city, and now that Alaric had stolen his identity, he had to pretend to be new to the place. "But I have an excellent memory. I'm quite certain I know the way." He extended an arm toward the street ahead. "Shall we?"