Pavilion Remembers: Halo Sky

Prologue

I wake up and the taste of blood is in my mouth again.

For a moment I’m not sure if it’s from what I did last night, or from what I know I have to do as soon as my feet hit the floor. The dry nasty feeling of my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth lets me know what must be done.

I have to kill again.

Last night’s hunt unfortunately wasn’t enough. I wish I could just sleep this feeling away.

Sometimes I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up again. If I never wake up, I’d never have to roam the night.

Never have to hunt.

Never have to kill.

But this is an unrealistic desire.

I am my Father’s son and must do as he does, like his Father before him, and his Father before him. Worse still, I am a Son of Iago, which means killing is expected of me more than anyone else of my kind. I haven’t even had the chance to get undressed from the night before.

I slept all day in my clothes, boots and all.

Thankfully I’d remembered to take off Shallow Cry, the broadsword given to me at birth, the first thing I ever owed. It sits in the corner, sheathed in leather, staring at me, because its mouth is dry too.

I strap it onto my back over my jacket.

Years before I would have tried to hide it, but that was when I was afraid of being seen. No one sees me.

I drape myself in darkness.

I move faster than the human eye can see. I am silent.

Why go through the trouble of hiding a weapon, when no one sees me?

I leave out through my second floor apartment window and scale up the wall. And of course, no one sees the spectacular performance.

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