Melusine

Wayland

Like an asp, quick and agile, Penate lunged at the last gang member. Penate, with great force, knocked to the ground, the blood stained knife parted from Melusine's bleeding face.

"Please," He whispered, crawling up to the ground. Smudges of dirt and blood lay in strokes over his face. Dripping with sweat, he dropped his knife, and held up his hands in defeat. "Don't hurt me. Please." His eyes were deep with sorrow.

In a strange way, Melusine felt sorry for him. One minute he was attacking her, and the next his life was on the line. Penate glared at the man with his crimson eyes. His hands shook as he rested his knife on the young man's scarred neck.

"I don't want to do this," Penate whispered through his teeth. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the knife further into his throat. "I really don't. Honestly." Penates' eyes were full of sorrow and guilt. Why wouldn't he just kill him? Melusine frowned.

"Just kill him already." She screamed, anger filling the small space. Penate swallowed loudly, and prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"Run." He shouted, pointing at the weak man. He stared at Penate in confusion. Why would he let him go? "I said, run." Penate repeated.

Melusine frowned. She had never let another man escape. Especially one that had tried to kill her. The small man took advantage of this moment, and scurried of, just as Penate had commanded.

Meluisne watched as he ran through the alley and into the bustling streets until he couldn't be seen anymore.

"Why did you let him go?" She asked, crossing her arms. He sighed.

"I don't know. It just wouldn't be fair."

"What? That he could have killed me?"

Penate frowned. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?"

Melusine's eye brows raised. She took a deep breath.

"Let's just go." With that, she dropped the conversation and made her way back towards the door. Puddles of blood were visible everywhere, and Melusine tried not to step in them. She knocked on the splintered door. The fight had been a distraction, but it wasn't enough to forget what would happen to Lilith if they didn't hurry. She knocked again. Where is this crazy man? She thought, her hands tightly plastered to her skinny waist. Penate frowned.

"I don't think he's here."

Melusine glared at the door, ignoring what he had just said. It could be true, but the result was something she didn't want to think about. She knocked once more.

"Hello. Is anyone there!" Silence replied. She sighed. "He better be here." It was unusual for this man to not be here. She had visited Wayland before, and he had been rather punctual, especially when opening the door.

A smile crept across Melusine's face.

Penate frowned. "What are going to do?" he asked, watching as she paced up and down the cobblestone alley. He could read her like a book, and new exactly when she was about to do something interesting.

Melusine smirked. "I'm going to break the door down."

Penate rested his head in his palm. He had spent much of his life dealing with her ideas, and many of them turned out rather badly.

"Are you sure this will work?" Penate asked sternly. He knew better than to trust her.

She sighed. "Of course I do." With that, Melusine charged towards the door. As planned, it fell to the ground. She dusted of her hands. "Told you it would work."

Penate and Melusine made their way further into the ran down building. It was rather like a cottage; a large, open fire lay in the living room, and contained a large range of wooden furniture.

Melusine traced her fingers along Wayland's desk. Where was he? She had sent a letter to him to explain their arrival, and was sure that he would notify her if he couldn't come. Her eyes dazed across his rows of books. She hoped that one day her room would be filled with novels like these.

They sat for hours, awaiting Wayland's return. It was very strange he wasn't here. It was his house, after all. Penate curled up in-front of the fire, letting the comforting heat surround his frail body. Melusine rummaged through Wayland's many draws. There would have to be something that suggested where he was.

Her eye's gleamed at a small, neatly bound letter fluttered down from his desk. She picked it up. The envelope was rather pale, and was sealed with a blood red cross. She gulped. It was sealed with the sign of Dijin.