Ominous Message (2)

As the evening crept in, the dusk settled upon the city, blanketing everything in gentle shades of purple and pink. The moon brought calmness to everyone under its reign, but not to Nicolaus and Rafte.

In their determined pursuit of the cloaked person, they weaved through the crowd, careful not to draw attention to themselves. The two maintained a cautious distance, their eyes never leaving their target.

The person they were trailing had an eerie deftness, moving through the crowd as if they were part of the shadows. Their cloak swirled behind them as they nimbly slipped away among the people.

Meanwhile, in the background, crates and barrels were being stacked along the pier by laborers. The clatter and bang of piling them on the pier and the blend of commands and banters filled the air.

Nicolaus managed to communicate with Rafte above the noise, and his voice raised just enough to be heard. "Keep an eye on them. If they sense us, they might make a run for it."

Rafte nodded in response, his words a hushed whisper, "Right behind you, my lord."

The pursuit led them deep into the warehouse district, a place where storage buildings stood in orderly rows, forming a maze of shifting alleys.

Maintaining a distance of just a few meters, Nicolaus and Rafte stuck close behind their target.

But it seemed like their target had caught on to their pursuit, as they suddenly quickened their pace. Until, with an abrupt turn around a corner of the warehouses, they disappeared from Nicolaus' line of sight.

Nicolaus turned the same corner, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. He found himself in a dimly lit alley that was barely wide enough for two people to pass side by side. 

Determined not to lose their trail, Nicolaus briskly continued, following the fleeting silhouette. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword hanging on his waist, ready for whatever lay ahead.

Rafte, who was a few steps behind Nicolaus, began to panic. He muttered, "Which way?" 

He had also lost sight of the cloaked figure and worried they might have walked right into a trap. He wished they had brought more backup for this mission.

The narrow alley squeezed between towering warehouses, reeked of rotting fish from the leftovers of the market that was held earlier that day. The stench was enough to make anyone gag, but they pushed through, aware that time was not on their side.

With just the moonlight to guide them, the alley grew darker, its walls seemingly closing in on them, creating a somewhat claustrophobic atmosphere. And in the distance, the faint sounds of rats scurrying and cats hissing filled the air.

They hurried on and finally spotted the cloaked figure's garment fluttering in the night breeze as they darted into a dark corner.

Rafte, his desperation evident through heavy panting, roughly blurted out, "They're getting away!"

The chase was on, and they kept running, weaving through the twisting alleyways, chasing their target, who seemed to slip through their fingers like a wisp of smoke.

With one more surge of energy, Nicolaus and Rafte closed the distance, chasing the cloaked individual deeper into the narrow alley. But as they approached, their prey led them to a roadblock, a messy stack of crates barring their way.

Realizing they had reached a dead-end, the cloaked figure came to an abrupt stop. Slowly, they turned around to face their pursuers, their hands raised with open palms in a gesture of surrender. 

A man's voice broke the silence, saying, "You two are a persistent pair. I'll give you that."

The moonlight didn't do much to reveal the face of the cloaked figure; if anything, it made the shadows around him even darker, shrouding his features.

However, Nicolaus, his senses on full alert, noticed something that definitely caught his attention. His eyes locked onto a tattoo barely visible on the man's wrist, but he was confident he saw the distinct image of a raven's skull permanently etched into the man's skin.

Rafte, standing firm beside Nicolaus, spoke up, "You might want to think about surrendering."

The cloaked man shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. Chuckling, he replied, "I think I will pass on that offer."

Just when it appeared that Nicolaus and Rafte had the advantage, the cloaked man sprang a surprise act. With agility, he climbed on top of the crates and leaped to the other side.

Unfazed, the man tried to give the stack of crates a shove, hoping to break free from his pursuers. But in a split-second realization, it clicked for Nicolaus. He hurriedly scrambled up the crates, narrowly escaping the threat of getting trapped beneath them. 

"Shit, shit!" Rafte, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. He let out an expletive as he narrowly avoided being squashed by the tumbling crates. "I'll catch up with you later!" he shouted.

Unwavering, Nicolaus continued his relentless pursuit, now only a few feet away. The chase was about to spill out of the alley and into the broader streets, leaving the warehouses behind.

When he saw his target turned right into a busy street, without hesitation, Nicolaus pushed himself into a sprint, determined to catch them before he slipped away.

Yet, as he rounded the corner, a sudden impact sent him nearly off balance. While he managed to stay on his feet, the unfortunate soul he had bumped into ended up on the ground.

When he glanced down, he quickly realized it was a startled maid, looking up at him with wide eyes.

A familiar voice called out, "Mira?" Nicolaus recognized that voice right away

The woman standing beside the maid, sharing the same look of surprise, was Lady Clarissa. She was wearing an oversized hat that effectively concealed her face. If it weren't for her voice, which Nicolaus found rather grating, he wouldn't have known it was her.

When Lady Clarissa locked eyes with Nicolaus, her eyes lightened. "Marquess!" she said. "What a coincidence running into you here."

Nicolaus mentally cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed right now was small talk. His priority was to catch his target before he lost him for good.

What frustrated Nicolaus even further was that this person he was chasing was no ordinary individual. He could be, potentially, the mastermind behind the sabotage that had wreaked havoc on his business. 

If not, he would still hold the key to expose the culprit responsible.

Exasperation welled up inside him, knowing that every passing moment brought him closer to losing this crucial lead. "I'm sorry, my lady. I have to go," he said in a rush.

"Go? Go where, my lord? What's going on?" Lady Clarissa asked, grabbing his arm. "It has been a long time since we saw each other, Marquess. I've heard–"

Rafte managed to follow behind Nicolaus, emerging from the alley they had come from. "Ah, my lord. Where is the–"

Nicolaus gazed out over the streets. The dim light of the lanterns didn't help him to see their target. It seemed he managed to get away by seizing the opportunity.

Frustration boiled within Nicolaus, and he couldn't contain it. He let out a loud, irritated click of his tongue, his brows knitted deeply. "We lost him," he growled.

Curiosity got the best of Lady Clarissa, and she inquired, "Lost who, my lord?" She reached out to touch his arm.

However, Nicolaus didn't take kindly to her touch. He yanked his arm away rather abruptly, his tone sharp as he said, "This isn't any of your business, Lady Clarissa," and with that, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving her bewildered.

Rafte followed Nicolaus' lead, and they began retracing their steps through the city streets.

Lady Clarissa, now left behind, couldn't help but feel a sting of hurt. She wondered why Nicolaus had been so rude and dismissive. She had been fantasizing about him for months, ever since she first laid eyes on him at that ball.

Yet, he appeared to pay her no attention, wholly consumed by his relentless pursuit of someone, as if he were a man possessed. She was left wondering what he was up to. She yearned to learn everything about him, but he dared to treat her like a complete stranger.

In her frustration, she clenched her fists and bit her lip, resolving not to give up. Lady Clarissa had a plan forming in her mind, and she was determined to see him again, no matter how indifferent he seemed.

Mira, her voice a timid murmur, spoke from behind, "Um, my lady."

Lady Clarissa, exasperated, rolled her eyes and replied, "What are you waiting for? Just stand up already."

She spun around to face her maid, noticing that Mira's dress had now sponged the unpleasant stench from the disgusting alley. "Never mind. Go find another carriage for yourself to get back to the villa."

Following that, Lady Clarissa walked into the streets. Her carriage, patiently waiting for her, was conveniently stationed just a short stroll away from a boutique.