⫯ london

@❛ ? » liena shen。 Emeraude was in Liena’s office, sitting in the master chair with his feet on the desk. The staff of the nightclub recognised him from his numerous visits and sent him to the office while the boss was out. The booming bass of the club music could be heard faintly through the shut door.

As he conversed with his suppliers through text messages, the door of the office opened, allowing the upbeat music to flit into the room. Swiftly, his feet were off the table as Emeraude watched a familiar face enter the office. A grin split across his countenance as he bade with open arms.

“Lienlien, you’re finally back!”

He turned off his phone and stood up, skipping over to an available couch to sink into so Liena could have her desk. “Where did you go? I’ve been waiting the whole night!”

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@❛ ? » liena shen。 Beneath the silhouette of wiggentrees, they sought refuge. A rendezvous in secret for ill-fated lovers, in their small bubble of safety. They were guarded there, from dark creatures and prying eyes alike. Uttering illicit professions of love and etching desire on busted lips. It wasn't much but it was theirs. Their spot where the world mattered not and she was his. Where swirling fog descended around them, erasing the horizon and the path back, to whoever they were before the tragedy of this affair.

On a night of sanguinary incidents, they severed for years. Her jilt was the knell to a life he mourned, to a past he cast aside. Yet here she was before his tormented eyes, knocking on his thrumming heart to deliver another dose of pain, another surge of remorse. Nonetheless, on the wooden railing, his palms clutched, withstanding the rue those eyes seared into his gut. Ever the runner, Lucian was. But perhaps this time, he would remain. What had he to lose that he hadn't already forfeited?

His legs moved of their own accord in long strides, intent and resolved to reach her, who slipped through his fingers once before. His gaze lingered, searched for hers but for once, it was her turn to flee, gradually disappearing between the dense crowd. In a motion of panic, Lucian directed his wand at the side of his throat. It was an instinct to cast sonorus, an amplifying charm to louden his voice as he cried out "Liena!—" Though really, it was a laughable effort, what with the intensity of sound from the arena and the brutish audience.

Even at full running speed, he was no quicker than her ability to disapparate. Shaken and breathless, he scanned his surroundings for any clue, any indication she may have left behind. But to no avail. He was alone once more, stripped of that vestige of hope their momentary reunion allowed.

@❛ ? » lucian hwang。 That very moment their eyes met felt like glass shattering—two bullets colliding into an invisible barrier the universe set between them to keep their lives from intertwining. It almost felt palpable, that connection that formed in that moment. As if she could feel the air he breathed, the gravity that kept his feet to the ground, the electricity running through his body—the confusion and realization in his gaze, which mirrored that of her own. It weighed heavy on her heart and spurred memories that brought her nothing but agony in that first year. She had tucked it all into a box and sealed it with the strong belief that she would never see him again, only to be proved painfully wrong tonight by the pair of eyes that stared up at her. Skeptical. Wondering. While hers turned cold. Regretful. She should not have stayed.

Some could call this fate. Liena would beg to differ. If the universe had designed their paths to cross again, then surely, this was torture, not reward. If this was fate, then Liena did not want it.

The last thing she needed in this life was a cruel reminder of what she could not have. For he was nothing more than a ghost that existed in her past, but not in her present. Never that. She could not allow that, for her sake. Nor for her safety.

With weakened resolve, she straightened up. She drew in a deep breath and held her chin high as she allowed herself one last moment to look upon the face of the aching memory she wished to dwell on no longer. Then, she turned around, slipped past the bodies of zealous wizards, and disapparated.

@❛ ? » liena shen。 Lucian was no stranger to the cacophony of barbaric crowds, those who amused themselves with the savagery of violence, watching maniacal beasts tear into one another for sport. Their fretful, impatient cries. Their entitled bellows to get their money's worth of utmost brutality. It was a sea of noise the dragon keeper deliberately drowned out, for the sake of his ebbing sanity. Contrary to the Ukrainian Ironbelly adjacent to him, who wasn't quite as efficient at disregarding the uproar.

With pacifying motions, Lucian massaged the metallic, grey scales of his magnificent creature, whispering to her in a soft cadence. "shh It's okay, Luminara. I'll be near." It was a challenging night for the dragon, who was to confront a Hebridean Black, distinguished for its excessive aggression and force. Lucian could sense deep agitation in her scarlet eyes, those black slits which bore into the depths of his very being. It was foolish to connect to a beast destined to suffer. Particularly, when he had a hand in said suffering. Yet, there he was, embracing the narrow snout of the Ironbelly with consoling arms. How ironic. "Make me proud, Lumi." what he received in response, were only a couple of huffs, tousling his silver blonde hair. But the keeper deemed it an approval still, separating at last from her with a sombre smile.

As the fight nearly commenced, he was ushered back to the rafters to converge with the rest of the poachers. Against the railing, he leant in wait, observing Luminara with an attentive gaze. Except, his attention was stolen shortly afterwards by another employee, calling out to him with an expression of what appeared to be pity. "The bets are on the Hebridean Black, Yaxley. She doesn't stand much of a chance." To which, Lucian simply dismissed, shifting back towards the pit with an obstinate resolve. How dare he declare her fate prematurely? Based on the opinions of London's most worthless of scum, moreover. "Come back to me when you have something useful to say." Disdainfully, he spat out, clenching his jaw with a quick scan of the audience, which found sick pleasure in betting on his dragon's life. He had not an ounce of respect for— A pause.

His senses were certainly deceiving him. Yes, she was the product of a fatigued psyche, loneliness taking form in a face in the crowd. It couldn't be. Not here, not now. It was as though Lucian was stupified, utterly stunned by the sight of her ghost, she who haunted dreams and nightmares alike, she who he saw in every page, in every painting, in every suffocating memory of a troubled time. The world dropped dead around him, leaving only that string of fate between them, tying them with a line of sight.

He could only stare with furrowed brows, a maddening yearning flashing in his bewildered gaze. Had he lost his sanity, at last? In his dazed longing, he studied her seraphic features, the effortless beauty of her ebony hair, falling in waves around her shoulders. She seemed different, older, certainly but different. He couldn't quite pinpoint it. Perhaps that was what broke his trance, to utter her name like a breath held too long. Three years to be exact. "Liena."

@❛ ? » lucian hwang。 The roaring screams of a congested crowd circling around a massive arena was initially perceived to be the most impractical of venues for a business meeting. However, the uproar inspired by the booming voice of the announcer overhead and dragonfire blowing heat into the center of the circle proved more than enough to command the attention of their audience. Not even the false promise of safety incited by the unsteady wooden cage dividing the audience from the pitted stage could manage to pry their eyes away for even just a second. Needless to say, Liena discovered that it was easy to be discreet within a place like this, her business concluded in a matter of seconds without an unwanted third party questioning them.

Why her client decided to meet here out of all places was beyond her, but she supposed that it was conveniently easy to lose someone within a sea of heads, should someone come chasing after them if one's eyes were to stray. But the cloaked figure had already disappeared amongst the animated flock of wizard kind within seconds of expressing his gratitude and bidding her goodbye, leaving her standing there, pondering as she looked past the crowd and into the center of the arena. She debated on leaving just as quickly as her acquaintance had, only to decide to stay a moment after. She had already come all this way, after all, and had never seen a dragon up close.

Curiously, she shoved past the crowd in front of her, the men standing in front of her too tall for her to properly see the cages below, until she stood close enough to the railing, but not too close. She kept herself hidden behind a pair of wizards that were just a bit shorter than her. At least, short enough for her to be able to see over their shoulders.

With the dragons still shackled, the show still yet to start, she took this chance to peruse the expansive interior of this location—the incredibly high walls, the audience's barricade that rose up as high as the average person's waist, and the rafters below, elevated a few feet above the pit, where several poachers stood, watching their beasts and the audience with careful scrutiny. Liena could see some of them sweating and speculated that it was either from the sweltering heat or fear for their inevitable fate, standing so close to the beasts chained against their will. This prospect intrigued her—she wondered how much money poachers earned for volunteering themselves to put themselves in constant danger, wrangling creatures that could kill them with a single blow. But she supposed it was no different to what she did for a living, delivering vials of deadly draughts in plain daylight.

Growing impatient, Liena raised her arm and pulled back the sleeve of her black cloak to check her watch. It was getting late and she still had paperwork to tend to back at her office. Perhaps staying would be a waste of time, she thought as her eyes redirected to the pit. But just as she was about to turn to leave, a head of bright, starlight hair from the deviated wooden platform across the ring caught her attention. Intrigued, she pushed aside the tall wizard that moved directly in front of her, ignoring his liquor-imbued curses with apathetic disregard. Tilting her head, she focused on this figure, strangely familiar even from behind, and bringing forth an image of a face from deep within distant memories.

And she stood there, waiting patiently for him to turn around and face her direction, so that she may confirm that her suspicion was no more than pesky delusion. But oh, it was not. As if he had heard her plea, he had turned over his shoulder, directing his eyes to the beasts beyond the boards beneath his feet. His gaze was cold. Calculating. A serious look to his face that made her wonder if it was thinly veiled worry or annoyance towards his coworker, or perhaps the commotion in the platform above him. Either way, she recognized that look. Those pair of eyes that held a memory of pain and bitter tears, set within a countenance that reminded her of a more difficult time.

Liena hummed to herself and, drawn to this discovery, leaned over the railing to study his face. Then, she laughed in disbelief—a sound surely drowned out by the blowing fire and clinking chains, yet was loud enough for it to fill her own ears like the ring of a bell. What the universe laid out before her was a distant recollection; a foggy image made clear with present reminder. For this person she recognized was not someone who held a likeness to her memory, but that memory himself. That she was sure of. It was unmistakable; there was no one on this revolting earth that held a candle to his beauty.