Encounter: Mark and Vanya II!

There is a hierarchy of people that I was not thrilled to encounter when it came to this world already. Naturally, that asshole, bigoted Arch Captain is on that list as well as the asshole Percival. Mordred and Aywen, but there is no person that I believe occupies the top of that hierarchy than the individual standing before me right now.

Although we went out of our way to gather our food and eat outside, trouble found us anyway. Her silver hair fluttered in the breeze, and although she was much shorter than myself, there was this intense aura around her. I believe if there were commentators, then they would say that this stand-off possessed a "big fight feel" to it.

"So it's you again? The third times the charm as they always say.."

My words didn't seem to amuse the silver haired elf in the slightest. I could see her glowing crimson eyes reflecting in the light. They bounced all around the terrace as if she were expecting someone to pop out from a hiding spot. I could feel their intensity when they finally landed back on me.

"You will not get ambushed on this encounter, Arch Captain Vanya. As you can probably see and hear, I am indeed alone.", I voice to her.

I could practically sense her skepticism, but that mattered little to me. I would turn my back to her and look over the edge of the terrace to gauge the drop to the ground. It was about a 20-foot drop to the ground, so I figured that it would be pointless to even attempt it.

"Who…are you.. really?"

Her words were dripped with hostility to the point that I figured that it would be best to see whether or not the woman had a weapon on her person. So I glanced over my shoulder at her just enough to see. From what I could tell, there was no need to worry at that moment. Instead, I began focusing on her question.

"I believe that I told you that -"

"That is a lie.", she says instantly.

It appeared that she was not going to fall for any of my charades on this exchange. It would only be natural that my story fell apart after she saw me with the others at the Golden Manor. Being present with two seemingly important figures in her society likely got her interest. I suppose I owe Claire an "I told you so." After all, she doesn't look too busy to me.

"Clarice Von Angea…Mordred Blois…Your connection…Your goal…"

"You are mistaken. I am a lowly foxkin-"

A bright flash quickly streaked through the air, and out instinct alone, I moved to intercept it with my right hand. A sting and soon crimson stained the steel that drew it. Those same fierce crimson eyes were only mere inches away from my face now.

"..."

My eyes narrowed as the hidden blade that the woman had began driving it deeper into the hand that I used to halt her attack. With her immense speed, Vanya had penetrated my hand as I halted it from reaching my chest. This woman was playing no games.

"Now why would you go and do a thing like that?", I remarked playfully.

With my enhanced pain resistance, even having my hand impaled by a blade seemed nothing as painful as a paper cut. It was more of a nuisance than anything, but it was clear that she said my reaction was the same.

"No normal fox demi-human would have survived that…"

"You are bat shit insane, Vanya…You know that?"

My words made her flinch, but she didn't bother backing down from her actions. Instead, my lies and taunts seemed to have emboldened her further. I narrowed my own eyes in an instant, I twisted my hand and shattered the blade in half. That would cause the woman to step back a few steps and observe my actions. Since there was no point in hiding my true face, I decided to present to her like before.

I couldn't help but crack a smirk towards the woman to mask the inconvenient pain that came from removing the lodged metal from tense flesh. This was the second time that a blade had damaged this hand toward, and much like earlier, I showcased my healing to a member of her party. Just like with Gerald, Vanya's expression warped to one of utter confusion when I began healing instantaneously.

"Alright - Let's not ruin the banquet because you are trigger-happy. Since you have been stalking me, then I will graciously offer you the chance to back off. I am also willing to overlook your attempt on my life as well."

Although this was the third time that my body has required the healing from an injury, this has been the second occasion that I have willed the injury to be healed. When I first attempted it, Gerald wore a similar expression of awe and confusion on his face as Vanya was currently. The woman would back up in a leap, placing a few feet in between us.

"It is just as he said…", She remarks, analyzing the now broken blade in her hand.

The "he" that she was referring to was likely Gerald. It was likely that the man reported my healing capability and strength to his superior. If that was the case, then Vanya should consider herself lucky that I mean no real harm. NO. Perhaps this is her way of showing that she is confident that she could defeat me if necessary. Other than that brief opening of confusion, Vanya would reset to her more rigid expression.

"Yes. I can heal. I am a lowly foxkin. We do that.", I respond to her statement.

Seeing how quick she was to attack me, I no longer saw any reason not to face her fully. This woman clearly viewed me as an enemy, so it would be foolish not to treat her as one as well.

"Not like that. Your connection with both the houses of Angea and Blois."

"I am - no, I was a member of the Conscripted Forces. I told you that before. Now, I am a retainer of Lady Clarice. She would not appreciate the fact that you drew my blood. The Blois would not appreciate the fact that you attacked one of their guests either."

"You won't tell either of them. There isn't any evidence since you healed yourself."

A scoff would escape my mouth when she said that. She was correct in that analysis. Even if I did want to tell them, there would be no point. I had just healed up the injury to my hand. There would be no trace of it. That would mean that there is no proof. The words of a lowly foxkin versus the word of an Arch Captain. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who they will believe.

I looked her down while the smaller, elven woman tucked the broken dagger into the red jack that she had been wearing over her black dress. That was the only moment that she had taken her eyes off of me.

"Say, what is your deal? It really isn't any of your business whether or not I am connected to those two families.", I say to her.

My tone was a bit agitated, but the sudden shift in tone didn't affect her in the slightest. Vanya still looked as fearless as before.

"You and your friends suddenly appear, and destruction occurs. I question, you lie and attack.", she says bluntly.

"That was an accident, but you seem to be fixated on it."

"Protecting Astana is my duty… I will not allow any of your "accidents" to happen within the city."

"Then perhaps, I should just leave this city. Astana seems to be a pretty shitty place to live anyway. Asshole nobles, prejudiced and bigoted law enforcement. Not to mention that the town is heading on the path of ruin anyway. I have seen the difference in classes here. This city would be lucky if one of my accidents happened to her. Hell, I wouldn't do anything as bad as it's going right now."

My words seemed to have insulted the woman as her eyes hardened once more. Perhaps it was her pride as a guard of this city or the fact that she's probably lived here for her entire life, but she placed her hand back inside of her jack. It was in the same section that she had placed the dagger previously.

"Your goal.", she states.

I would scoff at her statement again, but this time, I placed my hands behind my back.

'Why does she keep asking me about my goal? I assume that she suspects me of being a terrorist or a troublemaker. Nah. She would be questioning who I am working with…no…She asked me for my connection with the Blois and Angea families. That would mean that she has some suspicions of them as well. Why would she go out of her way to pester me, though? Well- I was the first and only one that she met then, but still… even if she suspected me of something, I would still be a small fry in the organization. From what I have gathered about many of the people in this region, they seemed to either despise my race or underestimate them.'

There have only been three exceptions to this logic thus far. Claire, Mordred, and of course, the woman standing before. Although I could not completely tell where Mordred's thoughts lie, I could sense that he was different in comparison to his brother. Vanya was different compared to her squad mates.

It might be just common sense to me, but when I stared down the point of her sword, then I could sense it. She was wary of me, but due to my race. I think she saw beyond that. Beyond my lies like Claire did. It could be that I was just a horrible liar, but I believe that I could sell a good product. There was this nagging feel that I had experienced under the surface about our interaction.

"Stop asking me that. I have no grand goal. I am merely a passerby to this city that just so happened to stumble across someone who required help. Unfortunately for me, the people here seem to not like me for my features. Sure, I was involved with clearing those trees out, but not everyone knows that. Anyway, since we are asking questions, then I got one for you. I heard that Kitsunes are seen as the same as demons here. That makes me wonder why I haven't seen anyway around here. What happened to them?"

The halting of her hand indicated that he managed to stroke something in the mind of the woman. Most of my knowledge that I had gotten from Claire was useful, but it was still lacking substantially. We barely had to time to talk properly if you think about it.

"You should know. You are a demi-human of that heritage."

"Humor me. Tell me, and I will be forthcoming with you as well.", I respond in kind.

It took a moment of internal deliberation before Vanya gave me an answer. She took a more non aggressive stance against me. Her hand returned to her side and away from that shattered weapon that she had on her person. That, in return, allowed me the freedom to move my hand from behind my back towards the curled strands of my mustache. That action made her jump slightly into a defensive stance before sliding back after realizing what I was doing.

"Kitsunes only find death in this land for their treachery and trickery. Your people hail from them, so you are born with their sins. They are stripped of their possessions, and the point to the sword is necessary. Their wrath have shed enough blood of the people of this continent in our history. They defied Cyto's will and, in doing so, doomed their future generations."

My brow frowned at the grim explanation that the silver haired woman gave me. Her words warped my mood.

'Kitsunes are the same as demons. They only find death in this land. Foxkins are born with their sins. Defied Cyto's will and doomed their future generations.'

I relefted on her words at every angle that my mind could muster at this time. Such word usage had some type of religious conation to it. Likely, her response was instilled into her by an authority figure in her background. Though whether they are the same or not is ultimately irrelevant to me, this will likely prove to be an issue in the future.

In the short time that I have been here, it has proved to be an issue. That type of shit kind of rubs me the wrong way. I have had a pleasant yet mundane life in my previous world. It was comfortable. I had come to believe that an abundance of comfort eventually leads to a sense of mediocrity. I am-no, I was human, so it was natural for us to integrate into society.

"The people of this land seem to be sick sons of bitches. Barbaric if you were to ask me. Considering how powerful the Kitsune race is, then that meant that most resisted. They died didn't they, Vanya?"

The woman offered no response to my question, but that in itself was the answer. A war must've happened in this world's history, and likely a genocide of the Kitsune people transpired. That very though made me sick to my stomach, but oddly enough I didn't know why.

I could sense this uneasiness to fill my body, but soon the boiling magma of rage began parting that fragile lid. I owed the Kitsune people of this world nothing, but I felt something out of my control swelling up inside of me.

"The fox demi-humans must have been the descendants of the weaker Kitsunes that managed to survive. Interesting…"

It was then that a thought had occurred to me. The prompt that Q requested for. Pieces and fragments began cementing themselves together. I couldn't help, but to chuckle to myself. No doubt, a sense of uneasiness crept up in the stoic guard standing in front of me.

"Do you know the truth of Ana and Claire? Did Mordred let you in on the secret?"

Those words seemed to have caught the woman's interest once more. I couldn't help, but smirk when I noticed it. I felt no immediate threat from the woman, so I would turn my back and look up at the stars. Considering that this world was not Earth, it would be foolish to this that I could recognize any of the stars in the sky. Though recognizing them was irrelevant at the time. I merely need to gawk at the beauty of them.

"What do you know?"

Her voice traveled from behind me when Vanya finally decided to speak up. I could not detect any other movements, so I could only imagine that the woman was hooked on my words. It was fortunate that I had decided to show my back to her. If she were to see the grin on my face, then I would have likely provoked her into attacking again. After all, this was a tantalizing piece of information that Mordred delivered to me. I should tell her the truth, but then again this might be a trap.

Even if it was a trap, I soon realized the opportunity that fell onto my lap. My silence seemed to have angered the woman as she once again repeated her last words. This time, her tone was more commanding as if she was utilizing her authority as a Arch Captain onto me. A tactic that likely usually finds success outside of this occasion. Here her authority meant nothing to me.

That fact alone was enough to allow my cocky chuckle to escape from my lips. It was a gesture that she did not appreciate in the slightest. Her furious steps forward was a clear indicator of that, but before she arrived I snapped around to face her.

"You do realize that I will heal from any attack that you throw at me.", I informed her when she once again brandished her blade.

I looked down my nose at the woman as she pierced up at me with her crimson eyes. The jagged edges of the blade once more pierced the flesh of my hand.

"I recommend that you ask to visit your leaders as soon as you can. Bring her a bowl of soup."

Vanya did not like my snarky remark in the slightest, but her hand held still. She seemed to be assessing my words for any hidden meaning.

"What are you after?…Why are you here in Astana?... Who are you really?", she asks coldly.

Those were three good questions. Each with a different answer, ones that I didn't put much thought into prior. Yet, once confronted a plethora of answers filled my mind, each better than the last.

"You asked me about my goal, and I responded that I had no grand goal, but it appears that in that regard I was wrong. From where I stand, even if I could heal, I am willing to bet that you'll be able to stab me first at every turn. Even your friend Gerald was quite difficult to handle. If I have one goal, then it is simple…to become stronger", I mused to her. "Why? You may ask. It is because I am a lowly foxkin, this world seems to view me as the same as a demon."

Vanya's face clearly showcased that same wariness as the first time we met. Her battle hardened eyes showcased great concern underneath the veneer of confidence, and to be honest, I loved it. Every second that she hung on my words was exhilarating.

"Listen to me well, Arch Captain Vanya. I'd rather betray the world than let the world betray me. For now, I will be the lowly foxkin, but soon and I mean soon I will not be the same as a demon. I will become the devil, himself. This world has became comfortable in its bigotry, but I am not. Something here has to give, and I am not so charitable."