Orchid

Oshar arranged the flowers atop a small table in the centre of his attic room. Such beauty was so rare in the desert that he could not resist taking them from the bridal table once his task has been completed. Here, now, within his temporary sanctuary he reflected upon their delicate elegance. A frown touched his brow as he saw a fleck of the grooms blood staining one of the tall Orchids amidst the bunch. The defilement brought a flush of anger to his cheeks and he carefully plucked away the petal, feeding it to the nearby fire.

He watched as the bloodstained petal smoked and blackened. The bead of congealed blood sizzling away into black ash. A small mew of disapproval sounded from the nearby window. Looking over, the desert dweller cursed.

"Jesek ar fel marek!"*

A bony black feline stood upon the window sill, hardly visible beyond the pitch black sky beyond. Twin emerald eyes considered him with interest.

"Asha! Veisl mek!"**

Oshar marched toward the open window, but the cat stood its ground. He wavered upon reaching the animal, unwilling to touch it and risk a scratch. The cat silently considered him and yawned. The act of indifference gave Oshar courage and he snatched up a nearby broom ready to swing at the animal. Observing the move, the creature gave a sharp hiss and leapt out into the night. Quickly Oshar snatched the shutters and closed the window, not caring where or if the cat had landed safely.

Shaking his head and cursing beneath his breath Oshar returned to the table and took a seat. He studied the flowers for a few moments more, and absently ran a finger along the green stem of the injured orchid. Still so beautiful despite the missing petal.

Carefully then he drew a small scroll from the folds of his desert robes. He would need to secure new clothing on the morrow, his native attire demanded that he circumvent the public eye entirely lest he draw attention. The need created... inefficiencies.

Placing the scroll down before him on the table he reached up to unclasp the chains of two small pendants that sat about his neck. The first he had taken from the dead woman, an elegant trinket of blue quartz. He had a mind to make a gift of this to his mistress. The second was infinitely more precious... his kopehtka***. The blue quartz he placed to one side; the kopehtka he placed next to the scroll.

Blood still stained its surface from the ceremony, but he chose to leave it be as he unfastened the leather bindings on the scroll. He took a deep breath as he silently read the content within. Seven names were written there. Seven pure souls, destined to dwell within the stone, to stand witness to what was to come.

Plucking a dagger from his belt he drew it across his open palm, hissing at the stinging pain. Blood began to well up immediately and he allowed it to pool in his cupped hand, before pressing his thumb into it causing another jolt of sharp pain. Then, with a silent prayer he ran his lifeblood over the first name on the list, obscuring it in a crimson smear.

Toman Riese had found the mercy of his mistress. Six more names remained and then... well then he would see.

Translated from the native vernacular:

*The bloody cat has returned
** Shoo! Be gone!
***Soulstone