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[color=silver][color=6ecff6][i]You have woken.[/i][/color]

... To a familiar scene.

The darkness, the disorientation, the [i]fear[/i]. It was all so very familiar, carved so deep into his body it must've been legible on his bones. In his half-conscious state, Wraith was transported back to the past, locked up deep within the confines of the Academy's tall, marble walls, trying to guess at the passage of time.

But as his eyes struggled open, what greeted him weren't the obstructed faces of strangers wrapped in fancy cloaks, uttering words in tongues unknown to him. What he saw, the [i]only [/i]thing he saw, was a woman. And she was so much worse than anything that came before her. After all, he'd escaped [i]them[/i]. Looking at [i]her[/i], Wraith knew; he would never escape her. The shadows themselves shied away from her, afraid to occupy her space. And where shadows did not go, neither did Wraith. 

The assassin knew he'd be unable to move even before he attempted to do so. He gritted his teeth, fighting back the panic that bled into his veins. If there was one thing he hated, it was to be restrained. Held in place. [i]Trapped[/i]. His survival hinged on his ability to disappear — or [i]make disappear[/i], as it were. Here, suspended in pure nothingness, he could do neither.

She called for patience, but Wraith's had long since ran out. 

The figures around him stirred. Some spoke, most did not. The Warden ignored them all the same.

[color=6ecff6][i]Sulfrey.[/i][/color]

The word hung in the air long after she'd uttered it, floating somewhere just beyond Wraith's reach, taunting him with all it encompassed. [i]Sulfrey[/i], his once-home, now a memory he couldn't outrun. She wanted them to go there? To slay the God-King? Wraith couldn't help but smile despite himself. The only insult greater than killing a nation's king was to kill its God. A prospect not entirely unwelcome to him.

The Warden's words were everywhere. They were the air Wraith breathed, the thoughts in his head, the screams he held back. They were everything. Her voice was terror made manifest, inescapable as time itself. But in all her infinite power, the Warden was wrong about one thing.

[color=6ecff6][i]You have been chosen, because noone will care if you die..[/i][/color]

After all, [i]Wraith [/i]cared whether he died. And that was all that mattered. [i]That [/i]was what would keep him alive, even if all the rest of the world burnt around him.

Silence descended, and Wraith welcomed its embrace. Silence was respite, it was safety, it was home.

Then that, too, was stripped away.
[center][color=#226c79]—[/color][/center]
The next Wraith woke, there was no one to tell him he'd done so. There was no need to; once the safety of darkness receded, Wraith's eyes snapped open, his body springing upright before his mind registered it'd done so. 

He became aware of the others around him before he became aware of the wind or the grass, always more focused on the living than the not. Especially now; after all, he was surrounded by cutthroats, traitors, beasts and madmen, none of them to be trusted. Some started to exchange pleasantries, some talk strategy, while yet others stood back and merely watched. Wraith was among the latter, taking in each and every one of his 'companions' in turn. 

For now, he saw no need to interfere in their budding plans — [i]or [/i]aid with them, for that matter. It was better to learn from others' mistakes rather than one's own, after all. So, should a few of them fall from a plan gone awry, the easier it'd be for the rest to avoid a similar fate.

Well, he [i]could [/i]offer one thing to his fellow Blackguards. It held no real value to him, anyhow. [color=#226c79]"Wraith."[/color]

And, since he supposed it was obvious enough from looking at him: [color=#226c79]"I'm quite good at going where I'm not welcome. I cannot guarantee I'm able to help you lot do the same. Some of you are a..."[/color] he looked the more conspicuous members of their little troupe up and down. A fox, a walking corpse, a ghost, a giant. 

A small, wry smile formed behind his mask — and bled into his voice. [color=#226c79]"[i]Sight [/i]to behold." [/color][/color]