Capital of Britain, Lan Dov manor, 1997.
Snowflakes flicker in the distance, used as a guide through the thick mist of squall. The world outside was a blur of white, swallowed by the heavy snow and fog.
The thick fog seemed to guard the building, hiding its details and casting an eerie shadow over the path.
Kitsune stood tall, his dark indigo kimono swaying in the wind. His eyes locked onto the manor that seemed to taunt him with memories. His left hand gripped the hand fan, which he carried on the way here.
Beside him, Calia shifted, her slender fox form curled up on the snow, her fur shimmering silver in the dim snow-filled light. Her eyes, sharp and gleaming, flicked toward him, knowing he was thinking too much, as usual.
"Nothing's ever as it seems with you."
She seemed to say with a twitch of her tail, as if she could read his mind. A mischievous gleam flashed in her amber eyes.
"Isn't that the way of things?"
Kitsune replied, his voice low, though the playful edge to it matched her own.
"Especially when you're as cunning as we are."
They approached the manor entrance, where a guard stood, their face blank. Kitsune's eyes sharpened. The guard was just an obstacle—nothing more. He smiled to himself and stepped forward, acting casual..
His hands raised to his head, showing a mock of surrender. He got on his knees, playing the role of a helpless foreigner. His eyes were glued to the snow, waiting patiently for Calia to do her part.
As if on command, he heard a booming yell coming from the guard.
"That gnawer, it bit me!"
The guard stumbled backward, clutching his leg, his face contorted in pain. His boot was torn where a bite mark had left a deep red impression. He looked down, wild-eyed, searching for the source of the pain.
Calia, with her sly grace, had already darted into the manor with ease.
Kitsune took this opportunity to sneak into the manor, with an innocent facade, he turned around, walking backwards and laughing as he glared down at the guard, daring him to move.
"My apologies, but that isn't a gnawer. I'm afraid that's a fox."
The guard's face twisted in rage, but the pain in his leg kept him from pursuing Kitsune immediately. By the time he regained his balance, the intruder was already slipping past the grand doors of the manor, his laughter fading into the depths of the dimly lit hallways.
"Shit.."
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and waxed floors. Chandeliers flickered above, their dim glow barely cutting through the grand corridor's gloom.
The silence was heavy, interrupted only by the faint crackling of fire from distant rooms. Kitsune walked with deliberate steps, his attire blending into the shadows. He knew better than to rush.
Calia had already disappeared into the shadows, no doubt scouting ahead.
He wasn't here for riches or revenge. He was here for something far more valuable—a name. A single name that would unlock the truth of what happened that winter night, so many years ago.
He reached the grand staircase, its steps stretching upward into the unknown. Before he could ascend, a sudden noise reached his ears—footsteps. Heavy ones, approaching fast.
"Where would they keep him?" Kitsune murmured, his voice barely audible even to himself. Without a second thought, a voice crept up behind his shadow.
Spinning around, Kitsune was greeted by a guard who soundlessly traced the two.
"Care to explain your reasoning here?"
The guard said, their face shamelessly shielded by their armor, hiding their current expression. Kitsune struggled to put the situation into words, his disdain for concealed identities gnawing at him.
He glared at the guard, a distant look in his eyes, before smiling with sadism. "It seems to be none of your business." His sharp teeth showed as he backed away.
A soft thud came behind him, hitting another guard in the chest. With no other option.
The guard barely had time to react before Kitsune sprang into action. With a flick of his wrist, his fan snapped open, catching the dim light as he lunged forward. A sharp gust of wind followed his movement as he twisted his body, slipping past the guard's grasp.
The second guard, still reeling from the sudden impact to his chest, fumbled for his weapon. But Kitsune was faster. In a swift motion, he slammed his closed fan into the man's wrist, forcing his grip to loosen. A blade clattered to the floor, echoing through the silent corridor.
Calia reappeared from the shadows, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement. She weaved between the guards, a ghostly blur of silver, before leaping onto a nearby pillar, watching from above.
Kitsune exhaled, his smirk unwavering. "I suggest you let me pass," he said, his voice laced with mock politeness. "Unless, of course, you'd rather find out what happens next."
The first guard hesitated, shifting uneasily. The second, more stubborn, lunged at him in an attempt to subdue him.
Kitsune sighed, sidestepping with ease. "So eager," he muttered. He flicked his fan forward, striking pressure points with precise movements. The guard stiffened, his body locking up before he crumpled to his knees, gasping for breath.
The remaining guard took a cautious step back, clearly weighing his options. Kitsune tilted his head, waiting like a curious kitten.
Then, with a frustrated growl, the guard bolted down the hallway, no doubt to warn the others.
Kitsune chuckled under his breath. "How predictable."
Calia dropped down beside him, flicking her tail. "We should move," she seemed to say with an impatient glance.
He nodded, his smirk fading into something more serious.