Just a stone's throw from Orion's temporary lodgings, on nearby rooftop two figures crouched low against the sloped tiles of a neighboring inn, their dark silhouettes blending seamlessly into the night.
They were clad in tight-fitting garments, their lower faces obscured by cloth masks woven from night-black fabric. Their movements were silent, precise, the kind befitting men who had spent their lives in the art of concealment. Even their breath was measured, controlled.
They had been watching for hours.
"He's right. The Blue Moon has begun," the taller of the two murmured, his voice barely a breath above the wind.
His partner, slightly shorter and stockier, followed his gaze toward the heavens, where the celestial event had begun to unfold in all its quiet majesty. The moon, no longer its familiar argent self, glowed with an ethereal azure radiance, casting ghostly blue light across the slumbering city.