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Old January 7th, 2013 (05:53 AM).
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The Prince of Sweet Sorrow The Prince of Sweet Sorrow is offline
La tristeza es mi sangre
Crystal Tier
 
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: Witty
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Nature: Lonely
Posts: 3,317
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Chapter 8: As an Hashashin




The noun found Shango and Crystal sitting on one of the chairs of Ravenscare; the last rays of the setting sun crept in the room through the windows, painting the Ravenscare sign on the far end of the room orange, along with the rest of the room. At times like these, when the Verdict didn't require active duty, Shango would go dashing through the Ionian forest in search of a massive tree to climb and watch the sunset along with Tristana. And now, he was planning a murder with a cousin he didn't even know he had. In all his seriousness over the mission, his face had tightened in concentration as he looked at his braided hands in front of him.

"For your information, little cousin," Crystal was saying, "you should lure your target away from the bar..."

"How am I to do that? I don't even know who he is!"

"You can find out easily. As for luring them out, a simple threatening note will do..."

Shango threw her an examining look full of his own doubts. I've never used a threatening note, he thought but he kept himself from saying it the last moment. It could give him away.

"After the note... what do I do?"

"You kill him. Simply, with no witnesses."

Shango lowered his head, concerned with this task. He had killed before, many times, both wild and normal Pokemon. The former ones he hunted in the forest, and the latter ones were mostly outlaws and pirates of the southern seas; in other words, they deserved their fate. He never felt comfortable taking a life, but he couldn't do otherwise when he was working as a Needler for the Verdict. Tristana never liked it either and she was always trying to prevent him from hurting any Pokemon; he knew he would have to put up with her now.


***


Ravenscare Saloon was filled with Pokemon in just a few hours. Apart from citizens having a good time in the seemingly innocent Saloon, all the Hashashin he'd met in Podville were there. His eyes ran through the crowd examiningly, noticing the Pokemon that had gathered in the middle of the room: they were playing music, and their singers were Chatots. Tristana was flying above him, invisible, clutching his ears together as he had told her, to prevent him from losing his focus from the cacophony. She, along with him, observed the Pokemon inside the room, but they were seeing none that was above suspicion. Uncle Pasqual had laid back to his chair, paying no attention to him, while Crystal was glancing at him every now and then. She winked, smiling slyly, and he retracted his look as to not seem like he wasn't working. Once his eyes were off of the young Zoroark, they fell onto a Toxicroak on the other side of the room. The Pokemon was looking everywhere except the singer Chatots, where everyone was supposed to look; it had a curious look. A curious look that would soon get him killed, as Shango thought; he had locked his eyes on the table in which the Pokemon was sitting. He got up and subtly walked around the tables, taking the hidden note off the fur of his belly. It slipped into Tristana's hands, but nobody saw the movement, not even the Hashashin.

The invisible spirit flew over the Toxicroak, who was staring at Uncle Pasqual at the moment. The Infernape was grinning back at him, showing his yellow teeth, almost welcoming him. The letter suddenly appeared in front of him, as a shadow got past behind him - Shango's shadow. The threatening letter seemed to work, because the Toxicroak's expression changed the more he read; he looked behind him, in the dark corner, but nobody was there. He looked around, at all of the Pokemon of the room, to see the table of the Hashashin - he could tell it was them by the Infernape who was looking at him funny. He got up, keeping his calm, and walked over to the stairs; seeing as the Hashashin made no move to kill or at least catch him - they wouldn't be so stupid, as to do it in front of so many people - he normally went down the stairs, looking behind him occasionally. When he was at the last step, he glanced behind him one more time. The Metang bartender looked at him funny and turned around to manage the drinks and the glasses; once the Toxicroak turned around, his eyes were locked with the green, emerald like ones of Shango's. Blood rippled out of the throat and chest of the Pokemon, to fall on the red fur of the Zangoose in front of him; the Toxicroak fell forward, dead within seconds, only to be caught in Shango's arms. He let no blood stain the floor as he dragged him outside the shop silently.

When the bartender looked around questioningly, in a look as if he was lost, the weird Toxicroak was gone.


***


Shango heard hands clapping behind him; he turned around to see uncle Pasqual and Crystal, grinning at him. They were at the side of the road, next to the Saloon; the street was empty, as the night had arrived and all Pokemon of the town were resting in their houses, except those who were partying in Ravenscare, oblivious to the drama that had just went on outside it. Pasqual laughed and approached Shango, who had a plain expression on as if he didn't do anything great.

"Well done, boy... tell me, how did you know it was him?"

"He was looking around instead of having fun. And he looked at your table more than twenty times. That's what I call suspicious behavior."

"Haha! Yeah, you're right. But that doesn't prove anything."

"This does," Shango said and showed him a pendant with the symbol of the Dark Cult: the heart, being crossed by two cutlasses. The Infernape's shone as he locked eyes with it. "He was wearing it on the other side, so the symbol wasn't visible," he explained plainly.

"Shango," Crystal exclaimed, stepping next to him, "that was perfect, all of us said so - don't think they didn't, just because they keep quiet! They just don't like complimenting people!" she said, with a complaining tone that made Shango smile. He could imagine the Hashashin being a strict society.

"No blood behind, they kill was silent and quick... where did you learn all this?" she went on and he had to look away from her.

"Come on, Crystal," Pasqual exclaimed, "don't you see he's a natural?" the Infernape said with a shine of admiration hidden in his eyes and grin. But what caught Shango's attention wasn't the admiration. He knew he was admired by many people, even those he didn't like - like Jericho Santaros. But in the eyes of Pasqual, however uncanny as they seemed, he saw pride. He was proud of him. That was his truest reward, even though he didn't know the man; Tristana's heart beat strongly above his head, he could feel her warmth, as she could fully understand his thoughts.

"I would expect nothing more than the son of Alexander," Pasqual whispered, with a tone of sadness, as he patted Shango's shoulder.

"Alexander..." Shango whispered back questioningly. "Was that... my father?"

"And Alice was your mother," Crystal added, noticing how Shango looked as if each bit of information was as valuable as gold to him. "Alice was my mother's sister..."

"What... what happened to them?" Shango asked.

"They were sentenced to death," Pasqual said quickly and clutched his chest, inhaling. Crystal grabbed him worriedly.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes... yes, I'm fine," Pasqual replied and took a few breaths. Shango raised his eyebrows, thinking all this was too important for Pasqual. Perhaps his parents were friends of the Pokemon. Crystal looked at him.

"Let's talk about something else. What did you do with the body?"

Shango looked down at his hands - the blood they had touched didn't stain his fur one bit, as they were already red. But they were also full of dirt. He pointed his black claw at the side of the road.

"He's buried seven feet underground."

"Wow!" Crystal exclaimed in admiration. "How did you do this...?"

"If you know how to dig, it's easy..." Shango replied with a warm smile.

"What if the Granbulls of the town find the body?" Pasqual asked in a skeptical tone.

"I burned it," the Zangoose readily replied, letting out a fiery breath as proof of his abilities; though, in truth, Tristana was the one who did the deed. Pasqual was excited and patted his back again, laughing cheerfully, as if he'd just spoken his first words. Now the Infernape seemed alot different from back in Ionia, Shango thought - he had changed so much.

"Well done, again, Shango. You've gotten your father's wits!"

Shango's chest filled with pride, even though he wasn't happy that he had taken a life. He'd just have to convince him to live with it for a while - many Pokemon died every day, what difference did it make if he was the killer, or somebody else? Besides, he always disliked the Dark Cult and their ways...

"Alright, then!" Pasqual exclaimed. "It's time for the Oath to the Hashashin!"

"Oath... to the Hashashin?" Shango asked, a bit worried. This didn't sound good, oh no, and Tristana flared up next to him. He needed to talk to her, right away, but he couldn't at this moment.

"Yes," Crystal said, "you'll be one of us for good, soon. At last... I've waited for this moment ever since I heard of you!"

"Wait," Shango said, thinking about his memory, "who was I... before I lost my memory?"

"Umm," Pasqual said, throwing a thunderous look at Crystal, who cowered; Shango almost laughed at her reaction. "You were... one of us, just not officially."

He speaks the truth, I feel, Shango conceded with his uncle. Now I'm one of them. No, I've always been.
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