Chapter Text
FADE IN:
1 INT. SANGUINE THEATRE - FOYER - NIGHT
Rich and fashionable SOCIALITES mill about a THEATRE’S FOYER. The air is rife with the excitement of OPENING NIGHT. A slender, poised young WOMAN dressed in scarlet ribbons smiles uncertainly as a dashing young MAN kisses her hand. An elegant woman greets one guest with a grin, and as the camera pans over, the same woman laughs with another. Behind them, a SHADOW moves along the wall, unnoticed by the guests.
We follow the shadow through the foyer and into the MAIN CHAMBER. There are less guests here, most still mingling in the foyer. The shadow’s shape shifts, sometimes appearing almost human, sometimes something more... insectoid.
EXT. SANGUINE THEATRE - NIGHT
VARUS SUNBORN (25) swears under his breath as he hurries up a sparse, stone path. He is late, and he knows it. He looks up and sees the SANGUINE THEATRE, a small, yet grandiose theatre perched upon a hill.
Varus reaches the hill’s peak and takes a moment to rest, breathing hard. When he’s gained his bearings, he looks to the theatre’s open doors, glances back over his shoulder as he debates turning back around, then heads in.
INT. SANGUINE THEATRE - FOYER - NIGHT
He stiffens as soon as he steps into the light, bracing himself against the sea of NAVORI CITY’S rich and powerful. He fields greetings and offers of CONDOLENCES as he weaves through the crowd, and nearly runs into the immaculately dressed torso of JERICHO SWAIN (48).
SWAIN
Young Master Sunborn. So kind of you to join us.
His eyes flicker up and down and he looks over Varus distastefully.
SWAIN
Finally.
VARUS
Please. We both know you were hoping I wouldn’t show.
SWAIN
Quite the opposite, for your sake.
He offers Varus a thin smile, which goes unreturned. He leans in and speaks in what he thinks is a conspiratorial whisper.
SWAIN
Lady Ferros is going to have your head.
VARUS
Don’t remind me. How’s the wife?
He mirrors Swain’s judgmental once-over, deflating a little with disappointment.
VARUS
I see her latest attempts on your life have been unsuccessful.
SWAIN
Yes, well, there’s only been one since we last spoke. She’s here somewhere - Put in a good word for me, won’t you? I’m sure you’ll see her before you leave.
VARUS
...Wonderful. And the husband? - Eccentric as ever, I imagine.
SWAIN
He’s in good spirits. He’s been nagging us to get a portrait done - Emilia thinks it’ll be good for our image, and we haven’t got one with Briar and Gwen yet. Of course, Vladimir only wants it for vanity’s sake.
VARUS
Cute. Look, I’m going to head inside. It’s too loud out here.
SWAIN
A fine idea.
Varus stares at Swain like he’s about to take inspiration from the man’s murderous wife. The camera lingers in the foyer as the two men depart. We see the same woman dressed in ribbons from earlier, looking considerably flustered as a striking young WOMAN kisses her hand. Then the camera hurries to follow Varus and Swain into the -
MAIN CHAMBER - ENTRANCE
The camera then becomes preoccupied by the reappearance of the shadow as it slinks along the back wall, settling on a seat in the back corner and sliding into it, solidifying into a man - or something that looks like one, at least. PYKE REDFIN (?) leans back in his seat, already tired of this whole affair as he dully surveys the crowd, filtering slowly into the chamber. A small SPECTRAL SCORPION is perched on his shoulder.
The camera pans across the audience, following Pyke’s gaze. Several elaborately-dressed guests are seated by the front or in private boxes. We see a WOMAN adorned with six JADE WINGS sit down in a box close to the stage. The camera lingers on each as Pyke commits them to memory.
OFFSCREEN VOICE
Ah, forgive the intrusion - Do you mind if I sit here?
The scorpion scuttles out of view as Pyke glances up to find out who’s interrupted his brooding. A MASKED STRANGER peers back down at him.
The stranger sits down beside him, though Pyke very much does mind, and crosses their legs at the knee.
MASKED STRANGER
It’s so crowded tonight! And in a rather small theatre, too - I feel like a sardine. Tell me, are plays always this popular here?
Pyke only stares at them for a moment, absorbing the swaths of ribbons and silk flowing around them like petals in the wind. Upon closer inspection, their mask resembles a snake.
PYKE
Don’t know. Haven’t been here in years.
The words are clumsy and stilted on his tongue, like he hasn’t spoken in days... or longer.
MASKED STRANGER
Oh, pity. What made tonight the exception?
MAIN CHAMBER - AISLE
Varus and Swain. Varus’ gaze wanders to the jade-winged woman, still sitting alone in her box.
VARUS
Who’s that?
SWAIN
Haven’t you heard? That’s Mihira’s daughter.
VARUS
I thought Mihira’s daughter died with the rest of the Rihts. They found her body.
SWAIN
No, her other daughter. House Fomallion has taken her in.
VARUS
Other daughter?
FERROS
I can assure you my charge is none of your concern, Master Sunborn.
Both Varus and Swain stiffen at the voice of CAMILLE FERROS (66), matriarch of HOUSE FOMALLION. Due to her long, bladelike PROSTHETIC LEGS, she towers over the both of them.
VARUS
Lady Ferros.
FERROS
You’re late. Where is your master?
VARUS
He will arrive shortly.
FERROS
I requested the both of you. The play is to begin in just a few moments.
VARUS
The Queller Venerable is a busy man. Sure you can’t think his work is less important than watching a play?
Ferros glares coldly at him, and he stares back in silent challenge. Swain has become very interested in the pattern of the carpet.
FERROS
Very well. Remind him to speak with me when he arrives.
She glances at Swain, seeming to notice him for the first time.
FERROS
Lord Swain.
SWAIN
Lady Ferros.
FERROS
I spoke with your wife. Perhaps you should follow her example and mingle instead of... lurking back here.
SWAIN
Can’t you see that I’m engaging Master Sunborn here in conversation?
FERROS
Yes, I can see that. But you understand how... curious it might look that your spouses are representing your House whilst you hang back in the shadows with a young, disgraced bachelor.
VARUS
Excuse me?
SWAIN
I was simply making sure he felt welcome. I’ll be back out in a moment. If I don’t, Emilia will arrange another hit on me, after all.
Swain and Ferros exchange taut smiles, neither of which quite reaching their eyes.
FERROS
Yes, we wouldn’t want that, would we?
Without so much as a goodbye, Ferros pivots and stalks off, her prosthetics click-clacking dully on the carpeted floor.
VARUS
(mockingly)
Yes, we wouldn’t want that, would we?
SWAIN
Careful. Rumour has it she can hear someone speaking ill of her from the next town over.
Varus finds his gaze wandering back to the winged woman. Her gaze is directed towards the stage, but her mind is elsewhere.
VARUS
How long has that one been in Ferros’ care?
SWAIN
I’d keep my distance. Lady Ferros seems protective of her.
VARUS
Of her inheritance, you mean.
SWAIN
Is there a difference?
Varus balks and glares daggers at Swain, who doesn’t seem to notice.
SWAIN
Well, I’m off to mingle. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
VARUS
I can handle myself, old man.
SWAIN
Not with that attitude.
Swain holds out his arm, and a CORVID with a coat of deep violet descends from the rafters to land on his forearm. It peers at Varus with countless, unblinking aquamarine eyes, cocking its head curiously.
SWAIN
Until next time, Master Sunborn.
The bird’s sharp gaze doesn’t leave Varus as its master sweeps off, its head swivelling around to continue staring at him until Swain is out of view. Varus shudders and walks off.
MAIN CHAMBER - BACK ROW
Pyke peers out at the audience thoughtfully. His gaze finds Varus Sunborn as he sits down in an empty box, his eyes still glued to the winged woman in Ferros’ box.
PYKE
It’s a big night. Anyone who’s anyone is here.
MASKED STRANGER
Who are you, then?
Pyke doesn’t answer. The stranger leans back in their seat, amused.
MASKED STRANGER
I love the theatre. And this one is so beautiful. I couldn’t think of a better place for the show’s debut.
(sighing wistfully)
Yes, the first act will be special.
PYKE
Just the first?
MASKED STRANGER
You aren’t familiar with this play? The story is told in four acts, each with its own showing.
PYKE
That sounds... frivolous.
MASKED STRANGER
I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see, then.
As if on cue, the lights in the theatre dimmed, and the scarlet curtains drew back to reveal an idyllic storybook scene, mountains and rivers cut meticulously from paper stretching across the stage. The young woman from the foyer leaps across the stage, red ribbons trailing behind her.
MAIN CHAMBER - PRIVATE BOX
Varus sits alone in his booth, his head resting disinterestedly in his hand. His eyes lazily follow the HEROINE across the stage, though they keep drifting back to the winged woman, who has been joined by FERROS and another YOUNG HEIRESS.
A tall, not-quite MAN slips into Varus’ box minutes after the play has begun. His shadow doesn’t match his silhouette, hornlike shapes stretching from its skull in the dancing light.
VARUS
Where have you been? Ferros is going to kill us both.
YONE, Queller Venerable, half-demon and disgraced prince of hell, lowers himself gracefully into his chair, the portrait of serenity even as Varus glares at him.
YONE
Calm yourself, young Varus. There were hellhounds running amok in the Imperial Cemetery.
VARUS
What? - Why didn’t you tell me?
Yone holds a finger to his lips and gestures to the stage.
YONE
“The Great Beast Galio” is such a classic tale. It’s been much too long since I’ve heard it.
VARUS
Are you listening to me?
Yone, of course, is not. Varus scoffs and leans back in his chair, and attempts to enjoy the play. He’s almost absorbed in watching when the heroine collapses to the floor, crying out as her family is ripped away from her, and he stands abruptly.
VARUS
I need some air.
He hurries out of the box. Yone makes no indication he’s noticed Varus leave, but after he’s gone, the Queller Venerable turns around, looking straight towards the back corner of the audience. Pyke’s seat is empty. Yone’s eyes flash, and he turns back towards the stage, unsettled.
EXT. SANGUINE THEATRE - NIGHT
Varus bursts into the cold night air. He glances back towards the theatre, his whole body tense.
OFFSCREEN VOICE
You needed a break too?
Varus’ head snaps in the direction of the sound. Seated on the winding stairway leading up to the theatre’s entrance is the winged woman he’d seen in Ferros’ box, MIHIRA RIHT’S daughter. She offers him a small smile and pats the space beside her, inviting him to sit.
Varus sighs and drops down beside her.
VARUS
I hate these things.
WINGED WOMAN
As do I. My mother and sister usually attended events like these, before...
Her voice trails off. The Sanguine Theatre is perched on a hill overlooking the city, and the winged woman turns to it now. From this height and distance, one might, if only for a moment, find Navori City beautiful.
VARUS
I’m sorry. I know you’ve heard that a lot.
WINGED WOMAN
I’m sure you have, too.
VARUS
I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Varus Sunborn, of House Antagris.
WINGED WOMAN
I know who you are.
(turning back towards Varus)
WINGED WOMAN
My name is Morgana. I trust you know who my mother was.
VARUS
I do. I... hear Lady Ferros has taken you in?
MORGANA
Yes, she was a friend of my mother’s. She was horrified to find I’d been living alone in my family home, said it was “improper for a woman of my status”. She also said not to concern myself with the likes of you, Varus Sunborn of House Antagris.
VARUS
Let me guess - she also said I was “running my family name into the ground”?
MORGANA
Something like that.
VARUS
Do you believe her?
Morgana shrugs, glancing back towards the city lights.
MORGANA
I’m not sure. Perhaps I should give you a chance to prove her wrong.
VARUS
I wouldn’t get my hopes up.
MORGANA
All the better, then.
They share a tentative smile. Morgana looks back towards the theatre’s ornate doors. The sounds of the production can still be heard from the outside, though muffled.
MORGANA
Perhaps I should go back inside before Lady Ferros gets suspicious.
VARUS
As should I.
Varus hoists himself to his feet, and offers a hand to Morgana to help her do the same, her wings ruffling as she rises.
MORGANA
I hope to see you again, Master Sunborn.
VARUS
And I you, Lady Riht.
INT. SANGUINE THEATRE - MAIN CHAMBER - PRIVATE BOX
Varus sinks back down into his seat.
VARUS
What did I miss?
The Queller Venerable only holds a finger to his lips, his eyes fixed intently on the play. The heroine leaps and twirls across the stage, a zephyr of scarlet ribbons and snow-white hair. Blades cut from red paper dance around her, unfurling like a fan, fluttering like butterfly wings.
Yone glances over his shoulder, and Varus looks over in turn. Yone’s hand rests on a scabbard at his hip.
VARUS
What is it?
Yone turns back around, pushing up his small, round sunglasses.
YONE
Nothing. I thought I sensed something.
VARUS
Something?
Varus searches the audience, but can find nothing amiss, and turns back around.
YONE
Something born of hell.
VARUS
You think that’s what’s wrong with the play?
YONE
No, the play is... something else.
VARUS
Something else?
But Yone’s attention is already fixed back on the play.
Within moments, the play ends. Varus stands and applauds with the rest of the audience, and begrudgingly claps a little harder as the heroine drops into a deep curtsy, her paper blades fanning out behind her. The cast parts to make way for someone else, and the DIRECTOR, dressed as elaborately as the actors and disguised in a serpentine mask, sweeps their hands out and bows.
YONE
I would very much like to speak to that director.
VARUS
From what I hear, they’re hard to get an audience with. Swain told me they wouldn’t even speak to Vladimir.
YONE
I am not Vladimir vol Kalah Heigaari.
VARUS
And thank the heavens for that. By the way, Ferros wants to talk to you.
YONE
Then I suppose I should see what the good Lady wants.
Yone adjusts his glasses. For a split second, the reflection of a demon flashes in his lenses.
YONE
Secure tickets for the next act for us, will you? And see if you can arrange an audience with that director.
VARUS
Me? Do you know how little weight my name carries these days?
YONE
Not as an aristocrat, Varus, as an exorcist.
(wryly)
Though being the patriarch of House Antagris doesn’t hurt, does it?
VARUS
You’d be surprised.
The Queller Venerable disappears silently from the box with an unearthly grace. Varus looks down miserably towards the stage and the mysterious director.
VARUS
I’d rather wrangle hellhounds…
CUT TO:
2 INT. THE HOTEL PLACIDIUM - JHIN’S ROOM - NIGHT
KHADA JHIN (IMMORTAL) pours themself a cup of tea. Though their serpentine mask still obscures their face, they breathe deep the scent of the tea and sigh with satisfaction, steam curling around their mask in a gentle caress.
They set the cup down on a small table in their HOTEL ROOM, and move to sit down, but a breeze sways their cloak, and they pause.
JHIN
Are you going to stand there all night?
They turn around. Perched on the balcony banister is the man they’d met at the theatre, staring directly at Jhin. His eyes are alight with strange magic.
JHIN
Did you follow me here? If you wanted a private audience, all you had to do was ask.
PYKE
You’re the director.
JHIN
Clever, aren’t you.
Positioned on Pyke’s shoulder is a large spectral scorpion. Its tail is clutched in Pyke’s fist, its large stinger resembling a knife in his hand. It’s clearly a threat, but Jhin doesn’t seem to notice - or simply doesn’t care.
PYKE
What are you?
JHIN
I believe we just answered that question. Tea?
PYKE
You know what I meant. You ain’t human.
JHIN
What are you? You’re Pyke Redfin, aren’t you? Lost son of House Aldebagon, and all that? - Yes, I know who you are. Now, are you going to come inside? You’re letting all the cold air in.
Pyke stares silently at them. He hasn’t blinked once since he appeared. Finally, he jumps down from the banister - with visible reluctance - and steps hesitantly into the hotel room, pulling closed the sliding door behind him, though he leaves just a sliver cracked open. He pulls out a chair, looks down at it for a moment, then lets go of the scorpion’s stinger and leans down. He returns with a small red SNAKE in his arms.
PYKE
This yours?
JHIN
(crossly)
Whisper, what did I tell you about sleeping there? - Just set her on the table.
If WHISPER is bothered by Jhin’s cross tone, she doesn’t show it, nestling herself against Pyke’s arm. He sets the snake down, with more care than one might expect. Whisper rubs her head against his hand before coiling back up to sleep.
JHIN
Impressive. Whisper is notoriously antisocial.
Jhin wanders back to the counter to pour a cup for Pyke, which they then set down in front of him. After sitting down, they pick up their own cup, admiring the little piece of painted porcelain.
JHIN
This hotel has the loveliest dishes.
PYKE
What are -
JHIN
I’m not answering that if you aren’t. That seems fair, doesn’t it?
Pyke glowers at them for a moment, but Jhin only sets their cup down and crosses their legs at the knee.
PYKE
Isn’t the director supposed to sit at the front? Or - backstage?
JHIN
Darling, I’ve seen this play countless times. If it isn’t worth seeing from the back row, I’ve failed as a director.
Pyke continues to stare. The scorpion stirs on his shoulder, but he calms it with a hand.
JHIN
Does the little one have a name?
PYKE
What?
JHIN
The scorpion.
Pyke looks like he’s trying to skewer Jhin with his mind. The scorpion’s mandibles clack, as if sensing his discomfort.
PYKE
...Song.
JHIN
How cute.
PYKE
It’s not... cute.
JHIN
Agree to disagree, then.
PYKE
I didn’t name him.
JHIN
Oh? Who did?
Pyke and Song tense in unison, Song’s tail finding its way into his hand as he stands abruptly.
JHIN
Leaving so soon?
PYKE
I have work to do.
He makes to leave, but hesitates. He reaches to take the cup of tea, then nods at Jhin.
PYKE
Thanks for the tea.
He melts away into shadow, embers of spectral magic lingering in the air. Jhin shudders, and their cloak flutters - even though the door is closed, the room is still cold.
CUT TO:
3 INT. SARAH’S BEDROOM - DAY
Two perfectly manicured hands, short-cut nails painted with golden oxen, stretch a newspaper between them over a mahogany desk. On the front page is a picture of a middle-aged MAN sitting in his study. Lodged in his mouth is a massive, intricate DAGGER. The headline reads “DU COUTEAU MURDERED”. Written on his wall in blood are the words “SINNERS WILL BE PUNISHED”.
SARAH FORTUNE (26) leans back in her chair, frowning. She is normally cold, imposing, the definition of power, but today her wild pink hair is dishevelled, the circles under her eyes prominent. She drops the paper on the table with a sigh and reaches for a BOTTLE perched on the corner of the desk.
CUT TO:
4 INT. DU COUTEAU MANOR - DAY
The heroine of “The Great Beast Galio” sits stick-straight, her arms pinned to her sides. Offstage, however, her name is XAN IRELIA (21). When she moves - and she rarely does - she does so with grace; and yet, it is a learned grace, the trained fluidity of a dancer.
SLOW ZOOM OUT to show an elegant, spacious HALL. A long TABLE is set for nine guests, though three seats - most notably, the chair at the table’s head - are empty. Stylish young GUESTS - members of the ASSASSINS’ GUILD - are seated sparsely around the table. Irelia sits beside KATARINA DU COUTEAU (23), the du Couteau’s eldest child, who leans back carelessly in her chair as she toys with a large DAGGER.
IRELIA
This is the whole guild?
Katarina stops playing with her dagger and plants it in the table’s wooden surface, slicing through the expensive tablecloth.
KATARINA
Well, we’re still waiting on Akali, but yeah. The old guard’s all either retired or dead.
TALON DU COUTEAU (22), the du Couteau’s adoptive son, glares at his sister, from whom he sits directly across.
TALON
Kat.
KATARINA
What? It’s the truth.
Katarina snatches up the blade, ripping more of the tablecloth.
KATARINA
Everything’s gone to shit.
TALON
Yeah, well, without Dad -
KATARINA
It was shit before Dad kicked it, Tal.
Katarina pounds the butt of her dagger on the table for emphasis. Across the table, two nigh-identical TWINS (20) flinch in unison. Seated beside one another, their chairs tilted to face each other, they bear mirrored tattoos of crescent moons across their temples, HERS white and HIS black.
KATARINA
Now that he’s dead we can finally admit it.
TALON
Stop talking about Dad like that! It’s disrespectful!
KATARINA
What am I supposed to do, blubber like a baby about it like you did?
TALON
I did not blubber -
The enormous doors to the hall fly open. AKALI JHOMEN TETHI (20) saunters in. Her posture is carefree, loose, her bangs hanging over her eyes and devil-may-care grin.
AKALI
So was this week a BYOB thing? I can never remember.
The last MEMBER of the group seated at the table, tosses a GOLD COIN into the air. SAMIRA AMAKRA (24) peers at Akali with her good eye - the other is hidden by an eyepatch - and catches the coin in midair without looking at it.
SAMIRA
You’re late again, ‘Kali.
Katarina clears her throat as Akali takes her seat beside Samira. When she has everyone’s attention, she stabs her dagger back into the tabletop, where it lodges firmly. It looks like a declaration of war.
KATARINA
So. Which one of you killed Dad?
SAMIRA
What makes you think we killed the old man?
The du Couteau siblings send her identical stares.
SAMIRA
Okay, point taken. But I liked Marcus. We all did.
KATARINA
(under her breath)
More than you like gold?
One of the twins, APHELIOS MĒNĒ QULANI, nods in agreement. He is mute. His sister, ALUNE, though not a member of the Guild, attends meetings to translate for him, and offer insight, as she is a seer.
ALUNE
Lord du Couteau was an honourable man.
KATARINA
Father was a cruel man and a coward.
Alune’s hand flies to her mouth. Irelia cannot help her own gasp. Talon scowls, though he doesn’t correct his sister.
TALON
Perhaps the better question is, then, who would want Father dead?
Silence falls over the table, interrupted only by the restless tapping of Akali’s foot on the hard floor. Aphelios grunts and says something in sign language to his sister. Though she seems to disagree with his sentiment, she turns to the others to translate.
ALUNE
Phel wonders if it could be Lady LeBlanc. Poison is her preferred method.
KATARINA
No, she and Dad were old friends. Besides, that doesn’t explain the stabbing.
SAMIRA
To cover her tracks, perhaps?
TALON
It couldn’t be her. What would she have to gain by murdering Dad?
AKALI
(hushed)
Sorry you had to see all this.
Irelia flinches. Akali has stealthily risen from her seat to hover behind Irelia’s, which she leans over the back of to whisper to the other girl.
IRELIA
(whispering back)
It’s quite alright. Windsinger is just as much of a mess at times.
AKALI
Really? I heard that director runs a tight ship.
Akali crunches audibly on something, and Irelia casts a forlorn glance at her empty hors d'oeuvres plate.
AKALI
How long are you here for?
IRELIA
Until the story ends... So, four weeks.
Irelia glances at the du Couteau siblings, now engaged in an animated argument about whether this or that member of Navori City’s elite would want their father dead.
IRELIA
Why aren’t they in mourning?
AKALI
They are. When their mother passed, Marcus was the same way. Called everyone to the war room the next day to figure out who killed her. Unfortunately, there’s no revenge to be had on illness.
Pan away from their conversation as Irelia looks at the siblings with newfound sympathy.
SAMIRA
What about Ferros?
The word no choruses around the table, and Aphelios shakes his head.
SAMIRA
What? She’s had it out for the Guild for years.
KATARINA
Then she got what she wanted. The Guild’s been dying long before Dad was.
Talon begins to protest, but Katarina interrupts him.
KATARINA
Oh, can it, Tal. You know I’m right.
TALON
Then why are you even here, Kat?
KATARINA
(voice rising)
Because I like this Guild! I actually don’t want it to die out. It’s better than why you’re here.
TALON
(shrilly)
And why is that?
KATARINA
Even though he’s dead, you don’t have a single thought in that thick skull of yours except to make Daddy proud -
ALUNE
Katarina, Talon. You’re getting distracted.
SAMIRA
We’re still no closer to figuring out who killed Marcus, or why.
IRELIA
What if he wasn’t the target?
All eyes turn to Irelia. Defying all laws of physics and human anatomy, she somehow manages to straighten further in her chair, going stiff with embarrassment.
IRELIA
I - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.
Aphelios signs to his sister.
ALUNE
Aphelios would like to apologise, Miss Xan. He forgot you were here... as did I.
KATARINA
What do you mean?
Irelia fidgets nervously, but catches Akali’s eye as the latter looks at her expectantly, and she clears her throat, regaining some of her confidence.
IRELIA
What if he wasn’t killed for revenge, or for the killer’s gain? There was writing on the wall - Sinners will be punished. What if this was to send a message?
TALON
A message to who? Us?
AKALI
(scoffing)
Hell of a message.
ALUNE
What should we tell the public? The Houses will want a statement.
Katarina stands abruptly, her chair grating against the floor, and retrieves her dagger from the table.
KATARINA
That we’re going to find whoever did this, and that they’re going to pay. Painfully.
CUT TO:
5 EXT. INTERSECTION DOWNTOWN - NIGHT
YONE
Varus, pay attention!
Varus, lost in thought, looks up just in time to see a massive HELLHOUND collide with a DEMON right in front of him, tearing the creature apart as it screams. Varus cringes and shields his nose as what’s left of the demon’s form melts away into a foul-smelling puddle of sludge.
The hellhound, a huge, hulking, wolflike thing called RETRIBUTION, barks happily as Varus rubs her snout.
VARUS
Good girl. Thanks for having my back, Beau.
Yone cuts through demons in a whirlwind of steel. Here, he is the definition of cool, utterly unbothered by the swarm of hellbeasts as he adjusts his sunglasses and gives Varus a stern glare.
YONE
Your hellhound will not always be able to protect you. What troubles you?
Varus nocks back an ARROW OF LIGHT in his ornate BOW. Unlike Yone, he strains visibly with effort.
VARUS
Just thinking about the murder the other night. I once knew Marcus du Couteau, you know.
He releases the arrow. A demon perched on a rooftop shrieks and tumbles down as his aim rings true.
Yone crosses his BLADES, and his DEMON FORM leaps from his body, tearing through a dozen more demons in a frenzy before returning to the Queller Venerable with a snap . Though Varus has now seen Yone perform this countless times, he cannot tear his eyes away.
YONE
I assumed you knew all the important folk in this city.
VARUS
That was Aatrox’s job.
Varus falters as he says the name of the man he once called brother. He hardly notices as Retribution collides with another demon.
VARUS
I mean - I knew him personally. His son was my - friend.
YONE
Perhaps you should visit him.
VARUS
Visit him? - Absolutely not.
YONE
He’s just lost his father. He needs a friend now more than ever, Varus.
VARUS
I said he was my friend. And he has more than enough of those.
YONE
But how many truly know him?
The Queller Venerable is in his human form, now, but his eyes are still alight with hellfire. Varus has to look away.
VARUS
He has his sister.
A demon flies at Varus in a frenzy, and he smacks it aside with his bow.
VARUS
Believe me, Master, I’m the last person Talon would want to see right now. His dad never liked me much, anyway.
Yone slashes through the last of the demons, carefully wipes the residue from his twin blades, and sheathes them at his sides.
YONE
You should go home, Varus. It’s late.
VARUS
I will, there’s just... something I need to do first.
EXT. IMPERIAL CEMETERY - NIGHT
Varus stands silently before a MAUSOLEUM, the HOUSE ANTAGRIS CREST crowning its door. Varus cannot raise his gaze to the crest, the sight of it almost too much to bear.
VARUS
Talon’s lucky, in a way. He still has Katarina.
He looks to the door, still locked and untouched, and looks away.
VARUS
She invited me to the funeral, you know. I said no, but...
Varus falters. His eyes shine as he holds back tears.
VARUS
I miss you.
OFFSCREEN VOICE
Master Sunborn?
Varus whirls around, already reaching for the bow slung across his back, but relaxes as he finds it’s only Lady Riht, some ways down the path. Her wings are hidden beneath a dark cloak.
VARUS
Lady Riht.
Varus bows his head, and she returns the gesture as he approaches her.
MORGANA
My apologies. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was surprised to find you here.
VARUS
As I you. Are you... visiting family too, then?
Morgana smiles. In the moonlight and shrouded by her cloak, she looks almost ghostlike.
MORGANA
Yes.
VARUS
You shouldn’t be out alone this late. It isn’t safe.
MORGANA
I’m more resilient than I look... though I suppose having you around doesn’t hurt.
Varus spares one last glance at the mausoleum, then turns back to Morgana.
VARUS
Still. Could I walk you home, Lady Riht?
MORGANA
I’m not sure Lady Ferros would appreciate you showing up to her estate.
VARUS
Then perhaps I won't walk you all the way to the front door?
Morgana smiles at him, and Varus finds himself smiling back.
MORGANA
Please. Call me Morgana.
VARUS
Then you must call me Varus.
MORGANA
Then I suppose you can walk me home... Varus.
VARUS
It would be my pleasure.
Morgana offers him her arm, and he takes it. He is eager to leave the cemetery, but is in no rush to end this moment with Morgana, and they follow the winding path to the exit at a comfortable pace.
MORGANA
You said you were visiting family?
VARUS
Yes, I... I suppose Marcus du Couteau’s death got me thinking.
MORGANA
It’s horrible, what happened to him. His children must be devastated.
VARUS
Talon adored his father.
MORGANA
My sister was the same.
VARUS
At least Talon and Katarina still have each other.
QUIET CITY STREETS
Navori City is quiet as they exit the cemetery. The Imperial City is in a remote part of town, where the streetlights and the stars are all that light the way.
MORGANA
We don’t have to be so alone, though, do we?
Her pale hand brushes his, and he flushes.
VARUS
No, I suppose not.
A massive, grandiose estate comes into view, the HOUSE FOMALLION CREST above the gate. The two come to a stop down the street from it.
VARUS
I’m afraid this is as far as I go. But I enjoyed your company tonight, Morgana.
MORGANA
As did I, and I feel much safer with you beside me. Perhaps... you would like to accompany me again?
VARUS
I certainly would - for security’s sake, of course. It isn’t safe to be alone in this city, especially at night.
MORGANA
Next week, then. I’d like to visit the botanical gardens, but they’re always so crowded during the day...
VARUS
Oh, very. They’re quite a ways away, though.
MORGANA
Then meet me at the funeral home. It’s a pleasant walk from there.
VARUS
The funeral home?... You continue to intrigue, Lady Riht.
They share a smile. Morgana touches his arm briefly, then moves to depart.
MORGANA
Goodnight, Master Sunborn.
VARUS
Goodnight, Lady Riht.