Jagger [English version]

Chapter 2: Visit

Jagger watched with a cold, hard gaze from a tree near the window as the girl slept. It seemed unusual to him that she could rest so peacefully after what she had just experienced. Perhaps she wasn't human either.

The rain gradually began to ease until it stopped completely. He watched the sky as the clouds made way for the moon, which hadn't yet had a chance to shine that night. He relaxed his eyes a little and let the light shine into them for a few moments, meanwhile it felt that the nocturnal silence had become absolute peace.

His gaze returned to the girl, and his thoughts began to create complex conclusions about the response he had elicited to everything that had happened. But his mind concluded that this was not the most important thing, that there was something else in that person that he could not identify.

Jagger turned in the direction of the street and spoke before they could say anything to him.

"About time, Ruruoni," he said calmly as he climbed down from the tree. "Come on, I know you're there," he added when he didn't receive an answer.

He heard the whistle of the wind being cut and caught the blade of a dagger between his index and middle fingers. It had been destined for his face.

"Oh please," he sneered, though there was no trace of a smile on his face, "you know it's me, there's no need to test me." He threw the dagger onto the roof opposite him, and it ended embedded halfway into the material of the roof cornice. Just as the blade struck, a necrotal appeared: a hominid, much shorter than normal, in ancient, medieval clothes that begged for a wash. It could be said that he was a man if it weren't for his pointed ears and abnormally long, thin fingers that ended in sharp claws.

Frightened by the projectile, the creature staggered clumsily, struggling to keep its balance.

"What the hell, Jagger!" Ruruoni exclaimed, using his amorphous hands to grasp the edge of the ledge. "That knife could have hurt me!"

"That's not my problem," Jagger replied coolly.

"I know," Ruruoni said, a little intimidated, "but you can't blame me for playing that trick on you." "We necrotals have been under a lot of pressure from the Council since what happened with Shonk Barn," he added a little uncomfortably.

"What does the Council want?" Jagger asked, keeping his eyes on Ruruoni.

"They request that you stay in this area for a while," he answered somewhat fearfully, "it seems that something terrible is going to happen here."

"If that's all, I have no problem," Jagger replied. The necrotal sighed in relief. "Anyway, I was planning to stay here for a while," he added, turning to the window.

"I see," Ruruoni said, looking at the house curiously, "then wait for me to bring you more instructions, and please," he added, clasping his hands, as if he was pleading, "don't disappear out there."

"You should mind your own business, Ruruoni," Jagger replied with a glare that made the necrotal swallow hard. "And next time, it'll be your head instead of the roof," he said, glancing at the dagger.

Ruruoni got the message and hurriedly disappeared again, snapping his fingers and letting out a small pop.

Jagger looked for a few seconds at the place where Ruruoni had been before and continued to shift his gaze to the left until he spotted what he was looking for. The dagger was still stuck in the building's roof, the blade glinting in the moonlight harmlessly. In less than a second, Jagger was at the side of the weapon, carefully tugging at it. The dagger offered a bit of resistance as it was drawn.

Jagger examined it, and his gaze was filled with disapproval. The dagger belonged to the Moxor clan, the poison experts from the land of Neim.

"I would have been in trouble if I let myself get stabbed by this. You damned necrotal," he thought as he stuck the dagger back into the roof (this time he would push it all the way in, right to the hilt).

Jagger decided it would be best to deal with the eifros he had smashed into the alley wall before anyone found them. As he walked, he remembered that the necrotal had said that something horrible was going to happen.

Jagger didn't trust necrotals; demons who, for some reason, felt more comfortable around humans than inhabiting the depths of Gefordah. As was common among demons, within them there was an impulse to do evil and create discord among other beings. They were servants of the Council for the simple fact that they provided them with corpses, their only type of food. They could make themselves invisible and teleport short distances, which was extremely dangerous considering their ability to move without making a sound. They had no aspirations, they had no loyalty, they wanted no one, not even their own kind.

That was how Jagger defined them, and no one was better than him at drawing conclusions... or so it was supposed to be.