Gloomy streets

He was just walking down the street when he noticed a familiar face. Not the hauntingly familiar he’d been confronted with constantly since he set foot in the Upper Ring of Alderrath only a few days ago, but the alarmingly familiar of someone from the life he wanted to forget about that could blow his entire plan with a snap of its finger. Ishir’s breathing hitched before it resumed rapidly as he studied the other. The man looked so out of place, like he’d mistakenly brought an outfit for a different play, but kept it on thinking he could fool people into believing it wasn’t him but them who were wrong.

Ishir followed the other for a while, staying far enough behind so the man couldn’t hear his thoughts raging against his skull, and gritted his teeth as he devised a plan. It was simple: confront him, make sure he wouldn’t tell on him, and then see from there what option the other would take.

Eventually, they entered a part of the city Ishir knew all too well. It was quiet here, no one around but them—the perfect place to make his move without anyone seeing him and possibly blowing his cover. Making use of a shortcut, he hurried into a side street to intercept Alphard further down the road the other continued on. There was no different way the man could go and so when he had the opportunity, Ishir shot out of a dark alley, grabbed the other and pinned him against the wall of a dark building. He really didn’t want his suit to get dirty, but it sadly couldn’t be helped. “Why are you here,” he snarled in the other’s face as he made sure the man couldn’t move.