Headed by a Snake

Zhevra's adopted brother, Vyzen, was a Daeva... a not-so-innocent boy with the blood of angels coursing through his veins and the blood of others on his hands.

She, herself, was a Tiefling, a cynical woman with devilish ancestry and the ever-present inclination to exert her murderous will over lesser beings.

Since they began working together as freelance assassins, they were never short of contracts. Zhevra assumed it was because their employers found the pair poetic...

...or perhaps, ironic.

A winged angel and a ram-horned devil... they were easily remembered by the kind of people who wished for certain persons to be 'forgotten.'

"(Sister... Sister. Vyzen is so close. It is so close.)"

Vyzen pulled his delicate, doll-like fingers apart... mana-created wires strangling the stray cat in his lap.

It thrashed its broken legs, desperately trying to rally against its fate. Its futile scratching activated the runes on Vyzen's chest, a First-Circle ⌈Mana Ward⌋ rejecting its death throes.

It had been his third dead cat in the past bell...

Zhevra frowned as she took in the sight of her brother's collection of corpses. The apartment building's roof was covered in guts and gore. Scatterings of extracted bone were arranged on the floor in geometric patterns. Haphazardly carved patches of wet fur adorned the rooftop access hatch in the shape of a smiling face.

It was endearing... the fact that Vyzen always did his best to make Zhevra feel like she was at home.

"Patience, little brother," She caressed the boy's blood-spattered cheek. "Our plans are in motion... and you'll have your chance to kill again... soon-- very soon."

The previous evening, she'd spoken with a very interesting Corralidus.

It was exactly as The Wizard said. Despite the human Captain's steadily growing reputation... being the subject of one mutiny meant he was susceptible to another.

The sound of soft, rhythmic bells rang as the beautiful daeva's 'spoke'... "(Vyzen wishes... for the contract to be complete... to be free.)"

He tossed the expired creature aside, with force enough to splatter its soft skull against the stone roof tiles. After his playthings broke, it was never long until he grew bored of them...

Vyzen buried his face into Zhevra's lap, his light sobbing pulling at her heartstrings, "(Why can we not trust? Vyzen doesn't want to kill again.)"

"Shhhh..." Zhevra cooed, softly stroking her brother's soft-as-down hair... "Killing is what we do best. Even though the Realm won't accept us... we *can* do this. Once we have enough coin... once our reputation grows enough-- that is when we can do as we please."

The crying stopped.

Zhevra felt her heart skip a beat... worried if this sun was going to be the one when he was finally taken from her... just like everything she'd ever grown to love.

He wasn't breathing... but sometimes, that's just what he did-- forget to breathe.

It came as a great relief to her when he lifted his head up to take in the scent of her hair.

"(I spoke with God,)" He chimed.

Zhevra sighed as she lightly brushed her fingertips on Vyzen's runed chest... "Tell me then, sweetling... what did the scaled f*cker say to you?"

"(No,)" Vyzen sat up, blood and tears smudged on his face... "(The voice belongs to a different God... Vyzen's God.)"

Zhevra narrowed her eyes. Those were sounds she hadn't ever heard her brother 'speak'.

For a large portion of her life, she was raised in the northern nations of Bael Turath and the Sleeping Country. In those places, it was common knowledge that gods were mysterious, fickle, and merciless existences that couldn't give less of a f*ck about the plight of mortals.

Gods were known. They were respected.

However, people took precedence... and that which mortals sought.

Money. Power. Status.

Love.

Zhevra was very much a model citizen of her home nations. She desired all those things. She had a great deal of them, already. She had the coin to live with Vyzen comfortably. They had the freedom to accept and reject any employers they deemed unworthy. As a two-person Dark Guild, they had plenty of status amongst the underground circles belonging to every nation.

She loved her brother dearly.

But besides Vyzen, Zhevra had little faith in anything or anyone else.

People were not to be trusted-- not what they said, nor what they believed.

Gods were to be trusted even less.

The dragon god was one such existence. Even though her brother often heard its voice, they only followed its commands when they were given short-term benefits for doing so.

Often enough, Zhevra's employers belonged to the tyrant's cult... with wealth, status, and power enough to entice her.

For money, she'd do just about anything. With money, she could get anyone to do anything for her...

As for which god Vyzen was referring to... if it wasn't the winged lizard, then she hadn't the faintest clue as to otherwise.

Of course... she *could* reasonably assume it wasn't a goodly god of light and life.

"(The words spoken...)" Vyzen's eyes lost their glow as he spoke... returning to jarringly-human white sclera and black pupils-- "(do not... kill that mortal.)"

"Little star..." Zhevra gulped. She was certain she could accomplish the contract on her own... but it had been years since she'd done a job without her brother... "if you do not wish to--"

"(No!)" Suddenly, her brother snapped his eyes shut and violently shook his head, "(No, NO!! Vyzen wants! Vyzen will do it! Vyzen does not believe in God!)"

Zhevra exhaled as her spoiled brother thumped his head back into her lap. He folded his wings around her waist as he embraced her tightly.

It was... ridiculous, a daeva denying the existence of the gods.

"Hush now..." Zhevra whispered, "You don't have to believe if that is your heart's desire."

"(Truly?)"

Vyzen lifted his sorry head, a relieved look in his eyes.

The brat also gripped and squeezed her left breast-- forcing a soft moan to escape her lips.

"Of course, my love," Zhevra chuckled... "I will never lie to you."

To many, if not all men, she would... but not to him.

Vyzen slowly reached up... and took firm hold of one of her curved horns...

"(Sister... please. Use your mouth. Make Vyzen forget... Make Vyzen worship you.)"

Zhevra rolled her eyes and sighed. Maybe if she didn't give into her brother's demands so often, he wouldn't have become like he was.

...but she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it.

"Fine... I suppose I deserve a break..."