The raindrops fell gently on the chestnut grave as it was slowly lowered into the ground, creating a soothing rhythm that seemed to match the melancholy atmosphere of the day. The sky was painted dreary, and the air was heavy with a misty drizzle that seemed to envelop everything in a soft, muted haze. Yet, despite the sadness that hung in the air, there was a calming beauty in the rain. The drops were like tears falling from the sky, washing away the sorrow and leaving a sense of renewal behind. The sound of the rain was like a lullaby that eased the mind and soothed the soul, reminding them that even in the midst of sadness, there is still beauty to be found. The rain was a reminder that life is full of ups and downs but that even in the darkest moments, there is always hope for a brighter tomorrow in darkness.

Thus, Rhazien's thoughts were caught in the moment as he held a black umbrella high enough to shield him and the young boy from the rain. He had every right to blame the death of the boy's mother on himself. If only he were only more careful. . . Though death was bound to happen, there was only a restricted number of rays of light that the tunnel could provide before it was snatched away.

Rhazien's gaze flickered toward the young boy next to him. In the light of everything, he could only comfort the boy as his mind blocked out the prayers from the priest. His mind was in the distance as his body stood next to the boy. Last night wasn't any different. The boy was more shocked than anything, and Rhazien could see it. He knew behind the boy's green eyes held an ocean of tears -- an ocean of grief and sadness. It only guided Rhazien to cast a line to him and prevent him from drowning in those dark tides.

A red rose was tossed amongst the grave as a farewell to his mother. She would be carried amongst the stars and bathed in golden light. The boy knew his mother would never return, but he hoped to see her again.

As the priest closed the book, he and the two fossors, the boy and Rhazien, followed the priest with a gesture of blessing the dead and ending the prayer.

"We renew our faith in thee, to set our sister on the path to Heaven's eyes. May God bless Lilith and give her safe passage amongst the living and the stars, for she is blessed. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen." He placed his hand a few inches from his forehead before lowering it and continuing to make a cross.

Rhazien continued to lean on his cane as his raven landed on his shoulder, startling the boy and the priest. It dug its talons into Rhazien's shoulder of his black coat, creating small, unnoticeable holes within the threads. With a slight squawk from his raven, it shuffled closer to Rhazien's neck as the remaining drops of water slid off his companion's feathers and onto his black dress shirt and vest.

"Resurrection requires two extra shillings to be buried further than the others," the priest states, approaching them.

"Can you elaborate on the meaning? If you will," Rhazien spoke, his smooth voice creating a sign of mystery to the young boy.

"It is so grave robbers will refrain from snatching the remains of the body or the possessions. The market for eyes is in demand, and so are kidneys," he placed his hands behind his back, his gaze unwavering from Rhazien's foggy gaze. Rhazien paid close attention to every movement the priest made and every word. It became evident that he should pay up, even though something didn't sit right with him. He continued to study the priest's features, several small scars scattering along his jaw as his amber eyes reminded him of stained glass. His tidy, golden locks were kept untouched and combed back. If vampires existed in the world of the living -- surely, apostles did.

"Should you know such information, Father?" Rhazien raised a brow, wondering how he acquired this knowledge.

"I hear what God allows me to hear, confessions of sin mainly," his amber gaze flickered toward the boy next to Rhazien, who stared at nothing in particular.

"Are their names to these individuals, or perhaps they are buried along with the rest?" Rhazien was persistent, even though he wasn't on duty.

He held a robust resolve to discover something that would provide a clue to his next breakthrough despite feeling as though he was the one who was being left in the dark with no trace of illumination.

"I'm afraid I can't provide names. Once confessions are made, names or sins do not leave the House of God. For those who are buried, I can not speak of." Rhazien's silence provided time for his thoughts to process, though he knew the topic had been dropped before it had begun.

"Thank you, Father Vixen. It was a pleasure meeting you." With a slight nod, Rhazien stepped away from him as the young boy followed Rhazien close by.

Rhazien's smoky gaze glanced up toward the ash-coloured clouds that created a veil, covering the glimmering embers of the trapped sunlight. The tiny droplets that once fell from the clouds above slowly began to fade - within seconds. Turning his head slightly toward his familiar, he murmured silent but noticeable words to his raven, causing his - now folded umbrella - to fade into an ink-like smoke. Consciously, there would be a plentiful amount of questions he would have to answer later.

All he could do was focus on the matter at hand -- paying up. His ivory hand slid into his pocket as he stood before the two fossors. As he began to fish out several silver shillings, a sudden stench of strong alcohol struck his nose. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. It wasn't abnormal for a man to drink before noon, especially with such a grim job.

"Good day, sir. How can I be of service?" one of the fossors spoke up, placing his shovel down and leaning on the tip of the handle. His tired gaze focused on everything besides Rhazien's -- bouncing off every tree, grave, and blade of grass he could concentrate on. Contemplating whether he was wasting his time, Rhazien extended his arm forward and straightened his palm -- revealing several extra shillings. His intentions were clear, along with the other two shillings.

"This should cover the expenses of burying her further than the others," he replied dryly, causing the silver coins to slide off the leather of his glove into the man's hand. Before the fossor could object to overpaying, Rhazien delayed his initial thoughts.

"Should she go missing, I will be paying the ferryman a visit - regarding your arrival," his gaze did not falter, nor did his intuition - to repeat himself. He was in no sort of mood to banter back and forth with the man in front of him, especially when the boy lost his mother. Surely, Rhazien would take care of the matter at hand rather than having a corpse robbed from its grave. He knew their game and excuses. He knew they would need to remove the coffin and continue a few extra feet in the ground.

The men's slurry grin only dropped upon hearing Rhazien's words. Mentioning such a being to the mortal world only caused dread in the man's beating heart. It was unusual for him to hear such a threat, though it gave him a good idea: that Rhazien wasn't playing games. His chocolate gaze flickered toward the large abnormal bird - that sat above Rhazien's shoulder. It took flight, stretching out its large wings before it reclined its frame.

The boy felt a surge of terror as he clutched onto Rhazien's pant leg. He recoiled in fear as he witnessed the raven soaring into the sky. Large, milky plumes cascade into the air from its full wings. The boy's distress ran through his veins, admitting an aura Rhazien knew all too well.

Fear.

Rhazien twisted his head to the side, his gaze locking with the boy's green ones. He knew the boy had been through enough as it was. Losing his mother and watching her lifeless body pool with crimson stained his mind with the fear of the world. The boy hadn't spoken a word since yesterday. He was traumatized beyond words and fear combined.

"Hey. There's no reason to be afraid of him. Corvus won't bite," he reassured, causing the boy's battering heartbeat to tranquillize. His eyes flickered back and forth, contemplating whether to take Rhazien's advice. He sucked in a breath in before gently nodding. Still, he refused to say a word.

"Think of him as an abnormally large chicken with a slight. . . attitude-." A sudden squawk of annoyance was heard from Corvus above the two, causing a slight grin curving on the boy's lips. It gave Rhazien a sense of relief that the boy's emotions were still intact, instead of suppressing such emotions -- locking them away and forever discarding the key.

Thus, even the slightest of light was masked by darkness. The boy's grin soon fell neutral as his chest suffocated him with anger and sorrow at the death of his mother. It hurt him beyond belief as his heart felt like it was on fire -- on the verge of exploding. It was a reminder of how cruel the world was.

"Let's go." Rhazien's voice remained soothing as he offered his glove hand to the child.

This was a unique situation where the usual lack of emotion Rhazien used while interacting with officials and fellow hunters was replaced with a different approach. Life outside of Rhazien's cold exterior, followed by having to maintain -- a different demeanour around the kid.

Grey hues wrapped in a silver glint caught Rhazien's eye, causing his gaze to dart toward the source. The barren surroundings of the grave stood but one soul. The man emitted an unusual aura, causing Rhazien's calculated steps to appear like time was stopping.

"Goodbye, my dear. Our love was always doomed from the start—like two moths drawn to a flame. But as you leave, know that I shall cherish the pain you've brought me—like a scar that never heals." His gravelly voice cracked the tranquillity of the air, wrapped in a smooth melodic veil, giving his voice an authoritative undertone.

A man of power.

"Tragic, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Crawford?" He turned his head, arching a brow as his question lingered -- in the air.

Rhazien's eyes shifted toward the man's silvery gaze. His eyes gleamed like intricate crescent moons while they held a sense of mystery behind his hollow gaze. It was almost as if his eyes held a storm, waiting to break free from the shell that held it hostage. Something began to stir within Rhazien's gut as the hairs on the back of his neck sprang up.

"Depends how you define tragic," Rhazien stated blandly, causing a slight glint to flicker within the orbs of the gentleman before him. Although, another question began to plant itself in Rhazien's mind. The gentleman before him was faceless no matter how far he wracked his memory.

"Yet, I don't recall lending my name," devoided of any emotion lingering in his voice, Rhazien narrowed his gaze by half an inch.

The man's lips curled upwards, forming a sly but amused grin. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his silver hair. His gaze flashes with a hint of a predatory glint, almost like he would pounce any second, leaving an unsettling feeling clawing in Rhazien's gut.

"I am all but apathetic, Mr. Crawford. I know much more about an individual just by perceiving their first interactions. Their eyes, body stature, and even one's voice can say a lot," he replied, pulling the shell of his tie tighter.

"Your gaze encompasses a realm far beyond your grasp, staring into depths unknown and mysteries uncharted," he drew in a long breath before continuing.

"What are you implying?" He kept his gaze steady and his breathing calm, trying to figure out if he was a man of worth. Despite Rhazien's initial reaction, he could never be too careful...

"Your capability greatly deceives who you are yet to become. Some suggest your talents lie beyond the impossible. You were abandoned at birth and attended Hiserth, the school and orphanage of those who were abandoned. Adopted by the late possessor of the Trinity House, your Father set you on the path of a cadet. Though other plans set you forth once you came to London in your twenties to become a detective," his relaxed gaze pierced Rhazien's soul as each word struck.

(8000 word count)

Rhazien's eyes blazed like fiery embers while a burning sensation clawed at his stomach. His mysterious history was known to only a select few. Every word he heard felt like a suffocating weight, causing him to tighten his grip on the crow skull of his cane. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest as if it might burst. With each passing moment, perspiration decorated the back of his neck.

How did he see through him like an open book?

"Be careful of the waters you tread, Mr. Crawford," his gaze flickered to the boy next to Rhazien as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips, "because you might become the very thing that lurks beneath." Rhazien's gaze locked with the man before him. His gaze remained on Rhazien, and so did his grin before turning his heel and disappearing through the vast crowd that exited the church.

It taunted Rhazien. He missed his chance to ask this man's name. His words spoke louder than actions and cut deeper than any blade, creating a mental scar he was meant to bear.

The powerful reverberations of the massive metal bell echoed throughout the air, striking a chord in the hearts of all who listened to its sorrowful tolls. It chimed thrice, swaying back and forth akin to a pendulum.

Another day, another death.