65th Day of Spring, 511 AV
It wasn't a location she frequented, the Shooting Star Inn, but tonight she'd found herself a nook and spent the last bit of the evening in relative luxury. Elhaym Furuma sat in the far corner of the Inn's dining area, leaning casually in her chair and without the robes of an Acolyte to draw attention to her. Like many other single women who were inside, she wore her hair long and a shimmering white dress inlaid with prismatic designs that seemed to shift into hues of pink and red. Unlike the others, she did not radiate the need for companionship. Rather Elhaym sat with her legs crossed, her chair tilted back slightly as she watched the Cellist.
Elhaym waved away a server who approached her, the latest of many to offer her a glass of wine. A grouping of silver bracelets chimed softly as they danced across her wrist, and the server turned on his heels and went about his way. The sleeveless outfit did not conceal the hardened physique she had acquired over the years, nor did she wish it to. It was just as much a part of her as her hair, her eyes, and her crooked smile.
She had never had much of an ear for music, but Kota had played for her several times. Though his instrument of choice was a violin, the cellist's sound was close enough to bring a light smile to her face. Not only that, but she knew this man. A hazy memory at best though never to be forgotten. Unlike many of the other women who's latent gazes were fixed upon his soft features, her intentions were not promiscuous. She knew that beneath the elegance of his exterior lay something not entirely soft. He had saved her, after all. Had this Cellist not taken to the fight, Elhaym would likely still be confined to a bed. The Shinya who had escorted her to the Dawn Tower to be cared for had later informed her that two men lay dead in the vicinity of their attack. One had been stabbed and bludgeoned, the other simply found dead face down on the ground. His face had also been bludgeoned, but the Shinya had deduced that it was nothing short of the Acolyte's body that had been responsible for this. A discarded eating knife had also been found, bent and broken and apparently a tool of murder.
The cellist, Julian, had been charged with nothing of course. Being mugged is no crime, nor is defending one's self. Defending an agent of the Shinya Order even less so, in fact. He had received no trouble for his part in it all, though he received no reward either. That was Elhaym's purpose here this late night. The patrons would soon waddle up the stairs to their warm beds, or out into the growing light of morning to their homes. She would wait there, until he was free from the bonds of his work.
She would have come earlier, but she was not so free with her time as she would have liked. She spent most of her day training in the art of war; at times simply wearing normal clothes and lounging in a public place made her feel at ease. She waited there, eyes floating to the ceiling and eyes closed softly as the music waded into her untrained ears. She'd never before heard a cello, but it sounded well enough to her.
As the last song ended, she opened her eyes to find the room cleared for the most part. Several women seemed to cling to their last drinks, perhaps wanting a moment with the cellist. Elhaym Furuma would have none of that. She flagged down a passing server who seemed off put by her sudden interest in his help, and asked him to inform Julian that she'd like to see him. Unconsciously she patted a cloth bound object in her lap, wrapped in crimson silk and tied with a thin string that seemed to glimmer in the low light. Her request was met with a barrage of obedient nods, Elhaym's face contorting as she realized the commanding tone she had taken. What was done was done, and he scurried off to inform Julian of her presence.
Elhaym waved away a server who approached her, the latest of many to offer her a glass of wine. A grouping of silver bracelets chimed softly as they danced across her wrist, and the server turned on his heels and went about his way. The sleeveless outfit did not conceal the hardened physique she had acquired over the years, nor did she wish it to. It was just as much a part of her as her hair, her eyes, and her crooked smile.
She had never had much of an ear for music, but Kota had played for her several times. Though his instrument of choice was a violin, the cellist's sound was close enough to bring a light smile to her face. Not only that, but she knew this man. A hazy memory at best though never to be forgotten. Unlike many of the other women who's latent gazes were fixed upon his soft features, her intentions were not promiscuous. She knew that beneath the elegance of his exterior lay something not entirely soft. He had saved her, after all. Had this Cellist not taken to the fight, Elhaym would likely still be confined to a bed. The Shinya who had escorted her to the Dawn Tower to be cared for had later informed her that two men lay dead in the vicinity of their attack. One had been stabbed and bludgeoned, the other simply found dead face down on the ground. His face had also been bludgeoned, but the Shinya had deduced that it was nothing short of the Acolyte's body that had been responsible for this. A discarded eating knife had also been found, bent and broken and apparently a tool of murder.
The cellist, Julian, had been charged with nothing of course. Being mugged is no crime, nor is defending one's self. Defending an agent of the Shinya Order even less so, in fact. He had received no trouble for his part in it all, though he received no reward either. That was Elhaym's purpose here this late night. The patrons would soon waddle up the stairs to their warm beds, or out into the growing light of morning to their homes. She would wait there, until he was free from the bonds of his work.
She would have come earlier, but she was not so free with her time as she would have liked. She spent most of her day training in the art of war; at times simply wearing normal clothes and lounging in a public place made her feel at ease. She waited there, eyes floating to the ceiling and eyes closed softly as the music waded into her untrained ears. She'd never before heard a cello, but it sounded well enough to her.
As the last song ended, she opened her eyes to find the room cleared for the most part. Several women seemed to cling to their last drinks, perhaps wanting a moment with the cellist. Elhaym Furuma would have none of that. She flagged down a passing server who seemed off put by her sudden interest in his help, and asked him to inform Julian that she'd like to see him. Unconsciously she patted a cloth bound object in her lap, wrapped in crimson silk and tied with a thin string that seemed to glimmer in the low light. Her request was met with a barrage of obedient nods, Elhaym's face contorting as she realized the commanding tone she had taken. What was done was done, and he scurried off to inform Julian of her presence.