Unrepentant

A little girl, her laughter bubbling like a brook, tugged at her father’s sleeve.

“Daddy, can we feed the birds before we go home?” Ariana’s eyes sparkled with innocent excitement.

Amos paused, his gaze softening as he looked at his daughter. He glanced at the bakery down the street and nodded. “Alright, but we’ll need to grab some crumbs from the bakery first.”

Ariana’s face lit up with joy, and she clapped her hands. “Yay! Thank you, Daddy!”

As they walked toward the bakery, Ariana spotted an elderly man hobbling towards them. She let out a squeal of delight and ran to him. “Grandpa Dean!”

The old man chuckled, his eyes crinkling with affection as he patted her head. “Hello there, little one.”

Amos approached with a smile, shaking Dean’s hand warmly. “Should you be up and about, old timer?”

Dean shot him a mock glare before grinning. “Watch your cheek, Amos. I’ve still got half my teeth left, so I must be at most middle-aged.”

“Daddy’s taking me to feed the birds!” Ariana exclaimed. “Do you want to come with us?”

Dean smiled down at her. “Well, I was heading to the bakery myself. Why not?”

The trio made their way together, their laughter and conversation filling the air around them.

“Remember when the roads were full of potholes?” Amos said, shaking his head. “Now they’re smooth as silk.”

Dean nodded. “That new Magistrate’s done wonders. Food supply has also been great!”

“And the streets,” Amos added. “Cleaner than they’ve ever been! No more piles of garbage and shit everywhere you look.”

Ariana skipped ahead, then turned to face them, walking backward. “And the flowers! They’re so pretty now!”

Dean chuckled. “Yes, even the flowers are prettier.”

As they approached the bakery, Amos continued, “Crime’s low nowadays. You remember how it used to be? You couldn’t walk these streets after dark.”

“Ah, that was more than a horrible time,” Dean sighed. “Now we even have mystic Guilds setting up shop here among our old workers Guilds. Never thought I’d see that day!”

“Alchemists, Artificers, and Magicrafters… Who knows what else will be coming,” Amos said.

Ariana interrupted with a giggle. “And magic shows! I saw one last week with Mommy!”

Dean’s eyes softened at her joy before they took on a distant look. “I remember when things were much harder. Wayfarers would come through and cause havoc—murder, assault, you name it. The old Magistrate wouldn’t get off his ass for anything, it got even worse when he got killed.”

Amos patted Dean’s shoulder. “Life is good now though and that's what matters.”

The family’s voices grew softer as they neared the bakery entrance.

“Agreed,” Dean murmured thoughtfully with a small smile, “We can all feel safe now.”

Silas arrived at the Merry Minstrel Lodge, guided by a man sent by Arim.

The inn's charm didn’t faze him, its warmth and elegance a mere backdrop. A neat-looking inn worker greeted him at the door, eyes momentarily widening at Silas’s ghastly visage before snapping back to professionalism.

“Right this way, Sir,” the worker said, leading him through the spacious lobby. The glow from enchanted lanterns softened Silas’s stark appearance as he followed silently, his presence almost ethereal amidst the guests.

Upon reaching his room, the worker opened the door with a practiced smile. “If you need anything, please let us know.” He bowed slightly before departing.

Silas stepped inside, taking in the room’s understated luxury. He moved to the window, pushing it open to allow Nyx entry when he returned from his unknown ventures.

The breeze rustled the curtains as Silas shrugged off his satchel onto the bed, the sound of scrunched herbs and clinking glass breaking the silence.

He removed his outer robe, standing now in a simple black shirt and comfortable pants. Strapped onto various parts of his body were ampules of both malevolent and benevolent origins, along with two daggers, various needles, and paper talismans.

He reached into his satchel and retrieved the scroll he had been studying earlier in the cabin.

The parchment unfurled under his fingers, revealing alchemic symbols and diagrams of human anatomy that he scrutinized with intense focus. Hours passed as he pored over the intricate details, waiting for his machinations to start unfolding.

A sudden squawk broke his concentration. Nyx landed on the window frame, feathers ruffled and an annoyed expression on his face. Silas glanced up casually.

“You have blood on your beak,” Silas remarked dryly.

Nyx looked shocked for a moment before quickly using his wing to wipe it away.

Dean, Amos, and Ariana reached the Central Park's entrance.

Elderly couples strolled hand-in-hand along cobblestone paths, kids darted about in energetic games, and groups of people stood in animated conversations or quiet contemplation.

Dean found a comfortable spot under a grand oak tree, its sprawling branches offering cool shade. Amos settled beside him, their conversation flowing seamlessly from old memories to the prospects of the present. Meanwhile, Ariana’s eyes lit up at the sight of a flock of colorful birds pecking at the ground.

“The baker was so kind to just give me these crumbs,” she said to herself, her voice a blend of excitement and gratitude.

With careful hands, she started scattering the crumbs, delighting in how the birds flocked to her offerings. Each one that took a piece made her giggle with pure joy.

A strange sound caught her attention—a distinctive caw that seemed almost conversational. She looked up and spotted a portly crow perched on a branch above her father. Her eyes widened with wonder.

“Look, Papa! A King Crow!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying a note of reverence.

Nyx preened at the compliment, puffing out his chest feathers and emitting a pleased squawk. With an elegant hop, he fluttered down and landed on Ariana’s tiny shoulder. The girl stood still as if afraid to scare away the majestic creature.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the biggest crumb she could find. “For you, King Crow,” she said softly, extending her hand toward Nyx.

Nyx eyed the crumb with apparent approval before taking it delicately from her fingers. He made a contented sound as he swallowed it, his dark eyes glinting with something akin to satisfaction.

Amos and Dean paused their conversation to watch the interaction. “Seems like our girl has made a new friend,” Dean commented with a chuckle.

Amos nodded, his expression softening as he watched his daughter. “She has a way with creatures,” he said fondly.

Nyx remained perched on Ariana’s shoulder chewing on more breadcrumbs as if proclaiming his newfound allegiance.

The scene unfolded like a painting in motion—an innocent child finding joy in simple acts of kindness while an intelligent crow found pleasure in being acknowledged as noble.

Silas chose to ignore Nyx's bloodied beak, his focus entirely on the task at hand. The crow, sensing his master's disinterest in the matter, preened itself, ruffling its feathers back into place. Silas, meanwhile, began to remove the gear strapped to his torso.

With each piece of equipment he set aside, more of his form came into view. His shirt followed, revealing a physique that could have been chiseled from stone. Dense muscles coiled beneath skin marred by a tapestry of scars and burns, evidence of countless battles and experiments gone awry. Some areas even showed where chunks of muscle had once been torn away and had healed imperfectly.

His skin was a canvas of alchemical circles and runic symbols. Some glowed faintly, pulsing with an eerie light, while others remained silent and disturbing in their stillness. The markings seemed almost alive, writhing and shifting as if they were creatures trapped beneath his skin.

Silas extended a hand, and several glass ampules lifted from the table before him, suspended in mid-air by an unseen force. He closed his eyes before flicking his fingers; the ampules shattered with a delicate tinkling sound, releasing clouds of vicious gasses.

The vapors snaked through the air, drawn towards the dormant symbols etched into his flesh. As the gases touched them, those previously unmoving marks began to wiggle and writhe, awakening as if called to life.

Silas waited as the gasses absorbed into his skin, fueling the alchemical circles that now once more pulsed vigorously. The process was both fascinating and unsettling—an intimate dance between magic and flesh that only someone like him, or a more than talented Alchemist could endure or understand.

Nyx watched with keen interest from his perch on the window sill, head cocked to one side. Silas's focus never wavered; he was deep in concentration, feeling every shift and change within himself as the symbols fed on the vapors.

The room filled with a low hum as the symbols completed their transformation from dormant to active. Silas took a deep breath, feeling the alchemical energy course through him like magma.

He exhaled slowly, eyes opening to meet Nyx's curious gaze. The crow's dark eyes reflected an understanding that needed no words as he got ready to receive his orders.

Ariana's giggles filled the air as she tossed crumbs to the gathered birds, their feathers shimmering in the sunlight of the afternoon. Nyx was perched contentedly on her shoulder, pecking at the large crumbs she had offered. Her father, Amos, and her grandfather, Dean, sat nearby under the grand oak tree, enjoying the peaceful scene.

Suddenly, a boy burst onto the scene, arms flapping wildly as he ran through the flock of birds. Feathers scattered, and startled chirps filled the air. Ariana's face twisted in anger.

"Hey! Why are you being so mean?" she yelled, her small fists clenched at her sides.

The boy sneered. "They're just dumb birds! And you're dumb for feeding them!"

Ariana's cheeks flushed red as she stamped her foot. "You're a bully!"

Nyx remained unfazed, continuing to eat as if the boy's antics were beneath his notice.

Amos stood up from his spot under the tree and approached the children. "What's going on here?" he asked gently, but firmly.

The boy turned to Amos with a defiant glare. "She started it! She called me a bully!"

Amos looked down at Ariana, who was on the verge of tears. "It's not nice to scare the birds," he said to the boy calmly. "Let's all try to be kind to each other."

Before Amos could say more, an irate man stormed over. His face was a mask of indignation. "How dare you talk to my son like that!"

Amos remained calm, raising a placating hand. "I was just explaining—"

"I don't care what you were explaining!" the man interrupted. "You have no right to tell my kid what to do."

The boy smirked, emboldened by his father's arrival. "Yeah! Mind your own business!"

Dean got up slowly from his seat, sensing trouble brewing. Amos kept his voice even. "Your son scared my daughter and the birds she was feeding."

"So what? Birds are pests…" the man scoffed.

Nyx finished his meal and patted Ariana's head with one wing in a comforting gesture. The sight of this seemed to enrage the man further.

He sneered at Ariana. "You should stop fattening up birds that are already fat and will shit on everyone passing by!"

Nyx’s eyes darkened, an evil glint appearing within them. He let out a menacing squawk before taking flight horrifyingly fast towards the rude man.

The air grew tense as Nyx swooped down...

Silas's skin rippled with the activated symbols, an eerie soft glow emanating from the alchemical runes that now danced across his body. He methodically pulled his shirt back on. The fabric stretched over his muscular frame, the dark material hiding the frightening artistry beneath.

With his gear back in place, Silas's predatory gaze turned toward Nyx. The crow flapped its wings and landed on the table, tilting its head in anticipation.

"Nyx," Silas's voice cut through the silence. "Tonight’s meeting is important. The information I need must be acquired… and the Bloodmoon Thorn retrieved intact."

Nyx gave an understanding caw, his beady eyes narrowing.

"If she doesn’t have it on her or doesn't provide what I ask for…" Silas continued, "you will meld with her shadow. Track her movements until you sense the herb. Do not let her out of your sight."

Nyx flapped his wings once in acknowledgment before hopping off the table.

Silas reached into his satchel and retrieved a small tin container. He flipped it open to reveal several pale blue pills nestled inside. Without hesitation, he popped one into his mouth and swallowed.

The transformation was almost immediate. The menacing sharpness of his features began to soften. His gaunt face filled out, smoothing over the harsh lines that had made him look more specter than man. His eyes lightened from their deep black to a dark blue, their intensity shifting to something more approachable. Laugh lines formed at the corners of his mouth, giving him an air of youthful exuberance.

He glanced at a small mirror on the wall, assessing his new visage with clinical detachment. Satisfied, he nodded once before turning back to Nyx.

"Remember," he said, his voice now carrying a warmer timbre though still tinged with authority, "No screw ups."

Nyx landed on Silas’s shoulder, ready for the night ahead.