Strums of A Harp

Aquin slaughtered all the elders of both sects, leaving only the disciples who recoiled in terror. They wondered why he was doing what he did, but no matter how they asked, no answer came. There was no sadness in his eyes or regret, just seeming ecstasy.

—Returning— 

"So you're a devil," stated Oshine. Only a devil could kill his underlings and not bad an eye.

"Devil? Well, that is quite offensive, isn't it? I most times refer to myself as an Anti-spirit," Laughed Aquin. He was enjoying finally being himself; for decades, he had to use the guise of the noble Aquin. All because they were hunted like dogs. 

Oshine looked at Aquin, and there was only contempt in her gaze for him and herself. How could she not have seen the evil that lurked beneath the ever-chummy demeanour? She, along with all the other Sect heads, were duped gloriously. But there was no time to reminisce on their oversight.