salvador arainai

“That’s gratifying to hear. Or rather, to read,” he amends with a light chuckle.

“I am well. Busy, of course; a Talon’s work is never done. I imagine your own Talon must know the feeling. How is dear Andarateia? I have not seen her in some time, either.” There’s something sharp about his smile now.

“Ah, the elusive Matador.” Salvador beams widely, benevolently even. His signature smile, behind which hides a deep-seated mistrust and suspicion.

“How have you been, amicu? It’s been a long time since I last saw you, but I’ve heard tales of your exploits.”

Prides only have one male at a time for a reason.

Another expected outcome. Perhaps I shouldn’t bother with these games, if they’re only going to tell me what I already know.

Of course it isn’t. Dragons are beautiful, deadly creatures. It is an honor to be counted as one.

*he cocks his head left, letting his good eye focus on her completely* And what were you given, colombina? Something special, I’d wager.

Oh, I wouldn’t pretend to know enough about dragons to choose. But something with lightning or fire in its veins… I think that should suit me quite well.

And what result were you graced with, morticiattolo? Half-fish, wasn’t it? Better suited to lazing about in Rialto Bay than concerning himself with the affairs of those above him. That seems apt.

*he chuckles* I simply see the truth. That others cannot see it is their own failing, including yours.

It’s a shame you resist seeing it, though; House Valisiti’s fires might have continued to burn. It will pain me to destroy the hard work of your forebears… but if you insist.

Belief does not make you less trapped than if you could see the lamp around you. Your new masters have simply convinced you that seeing the outside world through the glass means you’re free.

But do please send more shattered blades. I have a project they’ll be perfect for.

Perché? It’s just a little harmless fun, or so it was explained to me. Nothing to be nervous about, colombina.

Says the djinn, trapped in a lamp and forced to grant the wishes of others, but never themself.

*he says nothing, simply nods and smiles at an expected outcome*

Salvador Arainai. Arainai Headquarters, Antiva City. 10th of Wintermarch, 9:53 Salvador Arainai, Guild Master of House Arainai, What a letter. It was quite a read, I must admit. I would have laughed if it had been half as funny as you think yourself to be. Although, Salvador Arainai believing himself greater than he'll ever be is not an uncommon occurrence, so I cannot be surprised. Now, if you're done acting like a petulant child, the adults have deemed it worth informing you that The Seventh Talon, the woman you have decided to insult for reasons unknown to me, considering she constitutes eighty percent of my remaining patience for your lewd taunts, has been taking very good care of some of the progeny you keep dropping all over the country. Should you ever care to visit your children, make sure to keep sending me test subjects, I do so relish having something living to try my latest inventions, their screams are a delicate melody to our ears. You wouldn’t believe the passion Zevran displayed upon discovering the surnames that had cursed them their entire lives, I could barely get a word in, Salvador, and his ideas eclipsed every clownish threat you have ever conjured. I can’t help but wonder who should be considered Arainai’s table scraps, if their most famous assassin, or a worthless pretender who hasn’t achieved a single merit by his own blade. No matter. Do make sure to return their faces to their families for me, will you? And tell them just how pathetically they begged, it was delightful. Viago de Riva, Fifth Talon of the Antivan Crows. Viago de Riva. Cantori Diamond, Treviso.

@onceandfuturetalon.bsky.social (ooc: Alt text for clearer reading.)

Viago gave the box to the messenger with a grave expression. "Do not open it, and do not dare deliver it yourself. Pass it along to a local courier once you arrive and head back to Treviso at once. Is that clear?"+

“To House Arainai, and the bright future that awaits us!”

“To House Arainai!” The cry echoed through every brick and beam of the villa, and everyone drank. If any suspected how bloody their new future would be, they remained silent.

And Salvador drinks deeply, smiling as he foresees his triumph.

The following silence is heavy. But Salvador is merely counting out just the right number of heartbeats before he breaks it with a raised glass and an appropriately somber expression. “A toast, my Crows. To the fallen.”

“To the fallen,” they echo.

“To the faithful.”

“To the faithful!”

—

Applause, clinking glasses, the expected reaction. Salvador waits a moment before continuing.

“But as we celebrate the impending rebirth of our house, let us remember for a moment those Crows who gave their lives to bring us to this moment. Those who fell, so that we might continue to soar.”

—

… And soon, the rest of her grounds will be restored to their former glory. Her training grounds will give future generations of fledglings a place to learn our arts, and her battlements will show the many clients who seek us out exactly why they should trust House Arainai with their contracts.”

—

… drawing all eyes to him without effort. The musicians fall silent, the laughter mellows to murmurs, and then everything is quiet.

“Tonight, we celebrate the first of many rebirths. Our ancestral home, Villa Sole Nascente, is once more fit to host our flock in peace and comfort. …

—

Odalis bows and follows them gratefully, unaware that the room they are headed to will be the last they set foot in alive.

Meanwhile, Salvador turns back to the assembled Crows in the dining hall and raises his hands benevolently. “My Crows!” His deep voice rumbles though the crowd,…

—

But an Arainai Crow should never show such weakness, especially in front of their Talon.

“You’ve done well, Odalis. Go, your brethren will take you somewhere to rest from your journey.” Salvador plants a firm kiss on each of Odalis’s cheeks before motioning for the other Crows to show them away.

—

At long last, everything he needed to set his plans in motion lay in his hands. Everything and *more*.

Salvador claps a hand on the Crow’s shoulder, inwardly sneering at the way they lurched a little at the touch. Exhausted from going day and night to get this information to him, no doubt.

—

Peals of laughter and softly-winding music carry through the dining hall and into the gardens. Though none laugh quite as loudly as Salvador Arainai himself.

He grins ear-to-ear as he reads the parchment that was just handed to him by an exhausted Crow. And how could he not be pleased?

Villa Sole Nascente glows like a beacon from its place on the cliffs overlooking the Rialto bay. The dining hall, foyer, and front gardens have been fully restored, and though much work yet remains, the Talon of House Arainai has opened the villa’s doors to all under his wing to celebrate.

—

… stomach as they sit upright and feel the tube strapped to their belt. Hopefully, it was news the Talon would like. Watching what had happened to their compatriot… the *thing* that had…

Between facing *that*, or a displeased Salvador Arainai, they truly, genuinely didn’t know which was worse.

… for this job, but a contract was a contract. And when Salvador Arainai gave an order, he expected it fulfilled, no matter how many Crows died in the process. Tonight, it was only one death, and Salvador would get the information he’d requested.

The Crow feels a sinking in the pit of their…

—

… manned by another Crow, who pulls the first over the side to safety before immediately letting out the sail and setting a course southward.

The first Crow lays on the floor of the vessel for a minute, staring up at the stars. This wasn’t what they’d expected when they agreed to run backup…

—

… into the water without hesitation. The gondolier stares for a moment, then shrugs, pockets the gold, and begins the process of backing the boat out of the tiny canal.

A few minutes later, the Crow surfaces just off the coast, gasping for air as they swim towards another boat. This one is…

—

… their surroundings in every direction. One hand remains clutched at their belt, gripping a sealed leather tube there.

The gondola squeezes into a narrow canal on Treviso’s farthest edge, at the end of which is a single grated drain. The Crow tosses the gondolier a coin purse and jumps…

—

“Go!” they rasp at the gondolier, who scrambles from his drowsy lean against the risso and starts pushing the oar. Within moments, the propulsion and the current sweep them away, towards the edge of the city.

The Crow remains tense all the while, standing at the bow and scanning…

—

… on the other side of Treviso, overlooking a quiet, mostly deserted canal. Mostly, save for a single boat with a single bleary-eyed gondolier at the oar.

The Crow drops from the roof in a controlled fall, landing in the center of the gondola, which only rocks a little at the impact.

—