It seemed like a long time for the assassin to reach around just two corners of the alleyways away from the Church of Reina, but Ixion knew he had to leave the vicinity in case the guards started to gather and block off the entire area while they go on to search for him. Each passing minute he was slowly regaining the use of his sore legs and arms, but still too slow for him to be able to disappear with haste should he be sighted. For now, he carried on with his limping, occasionally stopping to cough up the last remnants of blood that remained in his throat that the scars didn’t retrieve. Despite the alleys being quiet, therefore helping him in his escape, he thought that something was off. As if he was being watched by some distant being. The sounds of distant patters of feet coming and going of children as they played in the streets were the only thing that he could hear. [i]It’s too quiet here,[/i] he thought, his left hand brushing the wall as he moved about while his right was placed on the hilt of his weapon.

It was then he just noticed it, though he remained still while he concentrated to make sure that his assumptions were correct. [i]Footsteps.[/i] They were extremely light that they could have been disguised as the footsteps of the children he was listening to before. They were slowly getting louder, meaning that the being was heading in his direction. The first assumption he had was that it was a lone ducal guard trying to scout out ahead and might inadvertently run into his location. Alerting those nearby that the assassin was here. And that he was weakened. Ixion knew he had to disappear from the alleyway as soon as possible. He saw another junction to an alleyway, not too far from him. He took the opportunity to move towards it so he can ‘disappear from view’ before this figure was upon him. Slowly, he began to walk, stumbling over the parts of the ground that were jutting out. He didn’t have far to go before he could reach…

[i]”Stop.”[/i]

It was too late as the person, whose voice indicated that the figure behind him was a woman. Ixion analysed the voice, taking in each letter, to determine who was behind him without turning around. The voice had authority behind it, possibly leading to them being a ducal guard. But… there was a sense of… no… a [u]lack[/u] of confidence. Especially for such a simple, yet effective command as ‘stop’. So they might not be a ducal guard after all. He considered ignoring the command since it didn’t concern him at all since the guards were the only thing that he was worrying about. The only problem was that he hasn’t seen the person, which could mean that they are armed and could chase him down and confront him in the case that he was wrong about his assumptions. With his strength, he knew that confrontation would be quick and decisive. No, he had to think of another way to get to safety. Just then, his eyes scanned the rooftops, possibly looking for a way to escape that way. Ranged weapons would then be the issue, but that’s something that he could tend to in the case that he was hit with an arrow. Spotting an overhanding beam that is used to lift heavy things up into the storage door two storeys above a quiet shop, he grabbed the visual in his mind. In another moment later, he vanished, reappearing moments later on it. Just before he teleported, he heard a question from the woman behind him.

[i] "Are you the Fixer?"[/i]

He turned around on the beam, his eyes scanning the area for another escape route should he need it later. As he looked around, he noticed another figure that was on the rooftops. [i]Another assassin?[/i] he thought to himself before dismissing the figure to concentrate on the person below. Reaching behind with his concealed left hand, he turned to face the woman. The first thing he dismissed was that she was a ducal guard, at least not visually. The blue attire might relate to something but he dismissed it as he pondered on the question that was at hand. “Fixer,” he croaked, his voice still raw from previous events. He had to remain careful with his vocal tract from now on should he be able to speak again. “No meaning to me.” With such a question, eh began to ponder why the woman was looking for him in the first place. While he was thinking about it, he was also wondering why the lone figure on the rooftop was here was well. Adding a little bit more of an authorative tone, he called out to both of them. “And your purpose?”