I will tell you 

𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘

𝕍𝕀𝔾ℕ completed the task of putting on his jacket, casting a fond gaze upon the sleeping beauty bathed in the moonlight's gentle glow. Smiling with adoration, he leaned in and planted a tender kiss on her cheek. "I'll come back, my love. Sleep well," he whispered, his voice filled with reassurance. With that, he gracefully slipped out of her window and took to the night sky, soaring toward his friend Aline.

"Well, you don't have to go back. Let that wench come looking for you. Melody and I will teach her a lesson," Aline declared, fixing a determined gaze on his friend. He proceeded to fold a blanket, glancing over at Vign, who seemed a bit reserved. "Are you sure you're all right?" Aline inquired, concern evident in his eyes. Vign shook himself out of his thoughts. "What? Yes. Sorry," he replied, his eyes cast downward. "It's something else, really. It's just, um... I found Philo. I tracked the bastard down." He turned to look at Aline, who appeared surprised. "I didn't hurt him. I wanted to, but you were right," Vign confessed.

Aline, absorbing the information, asked, "And Melody? Did you find her?" Vign blushed, his mind instantly returning to the intimate moment with Melody. "Y-yeah, I did," he stammered. A mischievous smirk appeared on Aline's face as he walked up to his friend. "Oh?" he teased. "Did you two sleep together?" The question deepened Vign's blush, and he shifted his head, avoiding eye contact. Aline burst into laughter, patting Vign on the back.

"Wow, some reunion," Aline chuckled. "Shut up, man," Vign replied, growing even more flustered. "Okay, okay. I'll stop for now," Aline said, wiping away a tear and offering a genuine smile. "I'm happy for you, Vign, for you and Melody," he added, genuinely pleased for his friend. "Thank you," Vign responded, meeting Aline's gaze. Aline couldn't resist a teasing remark, asking, "So, when is the wedding?" Vign blushed even more, exclaiming, "Aline!" His friend burst into laughter once again, enjoying the playful banter. After the moment quieten down Vign spoke, "It's time for a fresh start. A new chapter."

"Well, I like the sound of that. What you got in mind?" Aline asked his friend. "Maybe... maybe if you have a word with your boss," Vign suggested, prompting a skeptical look from Aline. "You want to work here? Is this a joke?" Aline questioned; disbelief evident in his expression. "Actually, I can make my own income, perhaps by taking up cleaning or another job to assist Melody financially. She's currently working as an herbalist, studying various plants, and also contributing to Philo's cases. I don't want to be an additional burden on her," Vign explained, looking down. "Melody doesn't view you as a burden. I inquired about her busy schedule, and with her trademark smile, she assured me that she doesn't mind. She always prioritizes the people she cares about, and she made it clear that I am one of them," Aline said, smiling at the memory. "But, I am saying no to your offer," Aline added firmly, and Vign looked at him, puzzled. "Why?" he asked. "Because you're a ghastly fuck," Aline replied bluntly, the honesty in his tone contrasting with Vign's confusion.

"I'm magnificent, you cow," Vign said as they laughed. "Oh, it's just not you, Vini," Aline said to his friend and walked to pour a glass of liquor. "It's not you either. You're a poet laureate, for crying out loud," Vign said as he looked at his friend. "Yes, but let's be honest, the poems were mostly about sex," Aline said, handing his friend a glass. "I'm serious," Vign insisted, placing the glass on the table. "So am I. This city doesn't care who you were. You have to make the best of the choices you've got," Aline remarked before taking a sip from his glass. "What choices? I can't go back to that fucking house. You won't let me work here. I won't be a burden for Melody. What else is there?" Vign asked, frustration evident in his tone. Aline sighed before looking at his friend. "I do know a bloke who knows some people," he said cryptically, hinting at a potential solution.

"What sort of people?" Vign asked curiously. "They call themselves the Black Raven," Aline replied, pausing to pour himself another glass of liquor. "They're fae?" Vign inquired, looking at his friend. "Maily ex-blockade runners from the Wing Brigade. Proud fairish-homeland types without a homeland to fight for, just fighting to get by," Aline explained. Vign, intrigued, asked, "Get by how?"

"Any way they can, I suppose. Running lots, gaming, contraband, potshine, lixer. It'll put you squarely on the other side of the law more often than not," Aline replied, offering a glimpse into the risky and unconventional ways the Black Raven made their living. "Sounds perfect," Vign said to Aline. "They're meeting tonight. I'll get you an introduction, and if Melody comes for my ass, it's you I am pointing fingers at," Aline said to his friend before leaving, leaving behind an air of anticipation and a plan in motion.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

Upon reaching the designated meeting point, a weathered and towering edifice where the Black Ravens convened, Vign found himself face-to-face with a male figure. "You're Aline's friend?" the man inquired, his gaze fixed upon Vign. "Vign Stonemoss," he acknowledged, meeting the eyes of the tall stranger. Dressed in all black, with raven-hued hair and a well-kept beard, the man offered a piece of advice, "Eyes open, mouth shut, Vign." He followed the mysterious figure through the building, eventually arriving at a spacious room that opened onto a grand balcony towering over the city. In the midst of the scene were several fae, among them a woman with wings confined by a corset. Another female fae questioned her, "How did you manage to get them a slip?" referring to what seemed like a clandestine arrangement. As the enigmatic encounter unfolded, Vign observed the intricate dynamics of the gathering, realizing that his involvement in this clandestine meeting held implications beyond what he initially perceived.

The woman's gaze briefly shifted from Vign to the other fae before she spoke, her curiosity evident. "Maybe you can show me," she suggested, prompting the male fae who had restrained the winged fae to place cuffs on her wrists. "Go on, get yourself out of all that, like you did last night. I'm timing you," she instructed, setting a challenge for the captive fae. As the woman walked away from the restrained fae, she approached Vign and the male companion. "Who's this?" she inquired, her eyes fixed on Vign. The male fae responded, "Aline's friend." The woman nodded in acknowledgment, "Ah, right, the valet. What's your name, boy?" she questioned, directing her attention to Vign. "Vign," he replied, meeting her gaze. The woman introduced herself with a smile, "Vign, I'm Dahlia. Hamlyn tells me you spent some years getting our countrymen out of Anoun before coming over."

"That's right," Vign affirmed to Dahlia. "Good on you. That's righteous work, that. Didn't spend quite so long valeting, though, did you?" Dahlia inquired, directing the question at Vign. "Wasn't for me," he replied. Dahlia nodded in understanding, sharing a sentiment, "Hmm. Me, neither, for lady's maiding." She strolled towards the fae woman, gesturing to her wing corset. "This is one of my old wing corsets, in fact. You've probably had to wear something like it. Do you know why?" she queried, her gaze shifting to Vign.

"They didn't want me to fly off," Vign responded, providing a straightforward explanation for the restrictive attire. The exchange revealed shared experiences and unspoken challenges, linking their pasts in a subtle understanding.

"Uh, no, it's more than that. It's envy," Dahlia asserted, her gaze fixed on the fae woman. She then walked towards her, explaining further to Vign, "You see, Vign, a bird isn't afraid of falling. No, we're free. The leggers can't stand to see it." As she spoke, Dahlia moved behind the woman, her eyes intent on the winged captive. "So they have to cripple us. They have to make us like them," she concluded, articulating the bitter truth of a world that sought to diminish the very essence of freedom embodied by those with wings.

"Weak. Heavy. Afraid of falling." The words hung in the air, and as Vign pondered them, his thoughts involuntarily turned to Melody, vowing silently to always catch her and never let her fall. Dahlia stepped in front of the winged woman, pressing for answers, "What really happened last night, Wren?" Locked in a gaze, the two fae women exchanged silent communication. Wren remained silent, prompting Dahlia to declare, "Time's up."

In a shocking turn of events, Dahlia pushed Wren off the edge, allowing her to fall to her death. Vign, taken aback, instinctively stepped back, scanning the surroundings before fixing his gaze on Dahlia. She explained with a matter-of-fact tone, "The police have been looking for a foothold in my organization for some time. So, when one of mine spends a night in police custody that she won't say shit about, what am I to do?"

Dahlia shifted her attention to the other fae folk, emphasizing her conviction, "Have to protect my own. The way I see it, a faerishyn who picks the groundings over us belongs to the ground." She then walked towards Vign, meeting his eyes, and continued, "Now if you have a problem with that, you should turn and go." The gravity of the fae world's harsh realities unfolded before Vign, and he faced a choice: accept the ruthless pragmatism or turn away from the shadows that lurked beneath the fae's intricate society.

"No. I won't go," Vign asserted, meeting Dahlia's gaze with determination. "I won't work for none but my own kind." Satisfied with his response, Dahlia nodded approvingly. "Good," she said before walking away. She turned back to face him, explaining, "It's customary that I task you to prove yourself." Vign, ready to demonstrate his commitment, responded, "Just tell me what to do, I'll do it." Dahlia met his eyes and issued her challenge, "I want you to take the flag that's hanging in the rotunda of the constabulary and bring it back to me."

"In plain view of all those bluejackets?" Vign questioned, a hint of skepticism in his voice. Dahlia met his inquiry with a matter-of-fact response, "Do you know what we do here? We get things where they need to be. If you're going to be one of us, I need to know there isn't a shred of this city you can't touch. So, what's it going to be, boy?"

𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘

By: SilverMist707