The three of them were waiting in the Hall. Tarian and Azalia were sat in leather armchairs while Serafina paced in front of them, her leather boots clacking on the marble floor.
Kyros was keeping them waiting because of the last time they’d been in the Guild. Serafina had called him stupid because he couldn’t understand her Scottish accent. The memory brought a smile to her lips.
Then it fell as quickly as it had come. She missed Scotland. She missed her little flat and her friends in the Edinburgh Guild. Serafina didn’t like London, or England in general, the English irritated her. She was a Scot through and through, as her parents had been when they were alive.
Serafina sighed and sat down in an armchair. She bounced her knees, the heels on her boots clapping against the floor.
“Serafina, what’s up?” asked Tarian.
She scowled at him. “I don’t like staying still.”
“That’s because you’re always so worked up,” he said to her.
“I’m not worked up, I’m Scottish.”
Serafina ignored him and started humming ‘Flower of Scotland’, her national anthem. After a minute or two, one of the assistants emerged from a large pair of double doors.
“Kyros will see you now,” she said.
Serafina jumped and strode to the double doors which were already swinging shut behind the assistant. She pushed both of them wide open. She knew it annoyed Kyros, that’s why she did it.
Kyros was sat behind his desk which was piled high with paperwork as per usual. He didn’t glance up as the doors swung open, he didn’t need to. The silence told him who it was.
When Serafina reached the desk, she stood there in silence with Tarian and Azalia behind her. When it became obvious she wasn’t going to say anything, Kyros sighed and put his pen down. He lifted his violet eyes to her, the pale skin on his knuckles whitened even more. He despised this girl. She knew she was good. She was the best that had stepped inside the London Guild, and she knew it.
Kyros was an albino, with white hair and skin like day-old snow. His eyes seemed violet, sometimes even red. This man, who was feared by so many people for so many different reasons, was in fact harmless. He knew not how to wield a blade, and had no weapons on his person at any time. Yet Kyros Lamacraft had a way with words like no other. His words were sharp and pointed, and as ready to parry as any sword.
Kyros sat back in his chair and looked at Serafina, challenging her to speak. A minute dragged by and no one spoke. Again he sighed. He pushed his papers away slightly and sat up straighter.
“The assignment?” he asked with a voice that resonated through the large room. It was rare Kyros shouted, the volume of his speech was fairly reasonable, he was just the sort of person that everyone heard and listened to.
“Completed with the usual distinction,” responded Serafina, smirking slightly.
She’d won their contest again. It was never talked about, it wasn’t a set competition; it was just a known fact between the two people. They always wanted to see who dared speak first. Sometimes five minutes would go by before either spoke. It was usually Lamacraft that was first to give in. He always had work to do and didn’t want to waste what little time he had on some Scottish girl.
“Good. I trust you managed to complete the job without anybody hearing?”
Kyros lifted up some files and eventually found the one he wanted: ‘Fox, Garron’. He opened it and flicked his purple eyes quickly over the information.
“Garron Fox, Doctor of Business Administration. That was your assignment, wasn’t it?” he asked, not looking up from the file that housed all the Fs.
“And he’s dead?”
“As dead as he’ll ever be,” said Serafina.
He nodded and got the stamp out from a drawer in his desk and stamped the page about Garron Fox. Even from where Serafina stood, she could see the big red letters that spelt out ‘DECEASED’. Kyros held the file out for Serafina to take.
She took it and grabbed a pen from her pocket. She signed along the line at the bottom and handed it back. She replaced the lid on the pen and put it back in her pocket.
Kyros slid the F file back into the alphabetical system. He waved them away and went back to his work.