Evil Isn’t Born

Evil Isn't Born

Who: Jet, Akemi, Kyramith, Maozheth
When: Month 13, 202 AT.
Where: Unknown, Northern Continent
What: Jet collects the last of what Akemi owes her.


Jet leaves time enough to understand whether C’aol will live or die before she reaches out to Akemi to seek out the rest of what she’s owed, sending Blaze to deliver a brief note and offer an image for Between to Maozheth. It’s somewhere North that she’s chosen, the landscape barren and in the throes of winter, the freezing temperature something that Kyramith thoroughly enjoys, the green content to be left to lie in the snow while Jet advances on foot – provided that she can close distance with immediacy if necessary. Jet makes no effort to conceal herself this time, choosing a flat rock upon which to perch and wait, idly sharpening one of her many daggers against its surface while Blaze and Inferno look on, accompanied now by the young queen who has finally moved beyond a nickname and found herself a designation in the form of Fira.

Akemi has been waiting for the news of C’aol’s death with an intensity that leaves her disappointed when word travels to Silverfield that the bronzerider will live. The money she has set aside for final payment is easily gathered when the note arrives, Maozheth excited by the promise of an adventure somewhere new. He bursts from Between into the cold with a bugle emitted to signal his arrival. He settles down near enough to Jet that his rider doesn’t have long to trek through the snow as she makes her way down his forearm. She pushes her flight goggles up as she removes her helmet and leaves it tucked beside her blue’s side as she closes the distance between her and Jet. She takes in the entirity of the scene before her – the woman’s appearance and the firelizards accompanying her. Maozheth’s a friendly dragon and he sends a tendril of query towards Kyramith. << Who are you? >> he asks, sparks of excitement coloring his tone. Akemi holds out the pouch to Jet, not moving closer than necessary with those blades clearly on display. “Here’s what I owe you,” she tells Jet, “Though I now wish the bastard had died.”

<< Who are //you//? >> Kyramith questions without supplying an answer of her own, a chill to mirror the frost in the air laced through every syllable that she shares with Maozheth. Her rider pauses in the sharpening of the blade and stows it away before reaching for the proffered pouch, which she swiftly vanishes into one of the pockets of her jacket. “It could easily be finished,” she states, slightly arching one brow in silent enquiry. “Though if you were uncertain about wanting him dead before, I have to wonder why now you’re much more sure of your feelings.” Jet gives a deceptively lazy shrug of one shoulder. “If you want him to suffer, it’s a simple thing to torment him. Death feels like too clean an affair for him, not that I don’t share your desire for him to be gone from this world.” She smirks. “As much as I’d enjoy it, I’d still require further payment.”

Maozheth considers that frost and then flashes a sparkler at it, wanting to see it spark against the cold. << I’m Maozheth! >> is an enthusiastic reply, undeterred by a dragon that may not want to speak to him. He sits back on his haunches and flares his wings out briefly to stretch and then he flaps them to his back once more. “He got my wife with child,” Akemi tells Jet, “and now I’ll have a physical reminder of //him//..,” she shakes her head, anguish flashing across her face before she exhales slowly and removes any trace of emotion from her gaze when she resettles it on Jet. She shakes her head at Jet’s offer for another contract, her face solemn, “I won’t have a need for such things any longer. It doesn’t look like he’ll be able to sire more children on her… hopefully… in the timeframe she needs.” She brushes a hand across her pants leg, trying to rid her palms of sweat. “I owe you thanks for that.”

<< Kyramith. >> Perhaps that’s all that Maozheth will get out of her, especially as she lifts up from her sprawl in the snow to an alertness focused on her rider, a hint of yellow colouring her gaze. Jet has no sympathy for that anguish, any trace of her smirk fading as she regards Akemi with a look that borders on dangerous. “A child is a child,” she insists, low-voiced. “If you and your wife can’t take care of it without resenting it, then you should give it to someone else to raise. Or there’s Between, if it’s early enough.” Her dark eyes narrow. “If you can’t be a mother to it, then they deserve something better. Someone better. Maybe your wife does too, if you’re going to make her feel bad about it for the rest of her days.” That dagger comes back out, slowly twirled in one hand. “What //he// did may have been terrible… but if you’re going to pay an innocent back for it…” She doesn’t utter the words; she lets Akemi reach her own conclusions.

Akemi does not respond to Jet’s clear criticism, nor does she take the time to argue a defense for herself. She suddenly looks like the youth she is, struggling to understand a world she doesn’t quite fully grasp from lack of experience. She takes a breath, looking to that dagger, and then up at Jet. “I’m not like that,” she does finally offer the defense, her tone steady in the face of the threat. “I didn’t mean it how it came out. I wouldn’t do that to Zinovia or our child.” She brushes her hands off on her pants again. “We should let you go. I didn’t intend to say what I said,” she tries to excuse herself now, focus once more on that dagger. “It makes me no better than him to behave that way.” Maozheth looks at the green and rolls the name around in his mind, toying with it like a shiny ball. << Kyramith. Nice to meet you. >>

“Aren’t you?” It’s not really a question; not one that Jet seeks an answer to, anyway. “You may not have intended to say it, but that’s how the truth ends up coming out. Then, you probably didn’t calculate referring to the child as ‘our’, so maybe you’re simply mixed up and salvageable and not of the same twisted mindset as him. Evil isn’t born, you know. You’re the one the child will look to. How they turn out is as much down to you as blood.” The dagger slows, a glance given back to where Kyramith sits, alert and focused on her. “I don’t doubt we’ll meet again. If you truly want to protect your wife and child, you could do worse than paying me to instruct you, for one.” Jet gets to her feet, firelizards finding the air as she moves. “Make sure I don’t hear any stories of a sad little heir or heiress at Silverfield.” It only takes so many names to piece a thing together. “I’ve been known to set them free.” She turns, making to move for Kyramith, who has no mannerly response for Maozheth, only a low rumble and the pad of delicate paws over the snow.

Akemi listens solemnly to Jet, taking it in that her hired assassin is lecturing her on how evil is created with a seriousness that doesn’t seek to contradict or question. The mention of training draws a hardness to the bluerider’s gaze and she nods. “If you’re offering, I’ll take you up on the training. If time allows for you to do such things.” She moves to Maozheth’s side, seeking the comfort of his hide underneath her palm as she watches Jet move to Kyramith. She and her blue will remain on the ground long after Jet and Kyramith disappear Between. Akemi turns to Maozheth once the air is clear and they’re truly alone. “We’ll do better,” she tells him, pressing her forehead against his shoulder to inhale the peppery smell that is //him//. “Let’s go home to our family.” When they reappear back over Silverfield Hold they take their time on their descent, drinking in the sight of their land like they’d been gone from home far longer than they were. Tomorrow, a new day will bring a freshness to Akemi’s attitude. She’s got a purpose now.

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