***NEED WORK

"Hey Zavius, did you hear the latest stories?"

I looked up from the book I was trying to read and turned my attention to whoever it was that was hissing at me. I grinned at who I saw.
"Hey Sarvwen," I hissed back.

We were in the Great Library, or as the Elders liked to call it, the Hall of Knowledge. The place was massive; it was practically a labyrinth made up of abnormally tall bookshelves. It was almost completely quiet, and the attending patrons were pretty anal to keep it that way. It was impossible and a painful task to find or track down a specific individual.

Well... almost.

Sarvwen was leaning over the table I was seated at, his uniform training gear a little too dirty and messed up. I raised an eyebrow at his roughed-up appearance, silently questioning for an explanation.
Sarvwen frowned and took a self-checking glance down at himself.
"Oh," he said, and attempted to straighten the wrinkles out from his jacket.
"I was down at the Training Grounds for combat drills," he said dryly.
I gave him my skeptical look, trying not to laugh.
"And what? You and the guys got a little too rough?" I joked.
Sarvwen grimaced uncomfortably, running his hair through his silver and black hair.
"Nah, some girls came to train and they were... clingy" he explained. He lifted the front of his jacket and undershirt, revealing his toned stomach.
"One of them clawed at me pretty hard... huh, I guess it already healed up," he said to himself, poking at the flawless skin.
He pulled his shirt down and sat down in a chair across from me.
"So, why are you here?" he asked.
I forced a smile, trying to be nonchalant about it.
"I'm in hiding," I said simply.
Sarvwen hummed to himself thoughtfully, leaning back on his chair.
Hmm...from the Elders, or from girls?" he asked.
I grinmaced, and shut my book.
"Both, actually," I admitted.

Sarvwen sighed and roughly ruffled his hair.
"Man, we're not normal. Isn't it usually the guys doing the chasing?" he groaned, leaning his head back in total defeat.
I raised an eyebrow at him.
"We? No, Sarv, you're just not man enough." I teased.
Sarvwen's head snapped up, his face in an expression of horror.
"Aw, not you too!" he groaned loudly.
I hissed at him to shut up, grimacing. Sarvwen clapped a hand over his mouth. We went still, waiting for a pair of angry Elders or patrons, and dreading a group of squealing girls. It wasn't until a few moments passed that we relaxed with a heavy sigh of relief.

"Sorry," Sarvwen sighed. "It's just that Thya tells me the same thing. Every time I see her, it's 'Hey lassy, have you grown some balls yet?' or 'Hey damsel, stop sulking and stop causing distress!' It's wearing down on my youth."
I chuckled, shaking my head.
"Maybe she likes you," I joked.
Sarvwen made a weird, loud noise and I punched him. He snatched up my book and clapped it over his head.
"What are you doing?" I hissed, grabbing my book back.
"Sorry, sorry. I was just...yea... you never know when the sky starts falling or something," he said, sounding nervous.
I snorted.
"Ah yes, and the book of Immortal Perception and Discovered Senses is going to save your sorry ass when that happens." I retorted.

We waited tensely in silence again, prying for any movement or sound. When nothing came, we breathed out.
"If we were able to age, I would've just lost fifty years off my lifespan," I said wearily. Sarvwen flopped his chest onto the table weakly, ignoring my comment.
"Don't joke about Thya like that," he said shakily.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

We didn't talk for a while, just trying to calm down.
"Why are you reading that?" Sarvwen asked suddenly.
I looked at him and he nodded pointedly at the book. I shrugged, brushing off the question.
"Eh, an assignment." I muttered vaguely.

I wasn't really in the mood to talk about how I was the only one out of everyone I knew that didn't have a special ability.

I nodded at him, returning the questioning look.
"Why are you here again?" I asked.
Sarvwen sat up, leaning his head against his fist.
"I never told you why. See, after I managed to get out of the Training Unit, I overheard some Proeliator ranks talking. Which returns us back to the original question." he said.
He leaned forward, smirking knowingly.
"Hey Zavius, did you hear the latest stories?"

I frowned, studying Sarvwen's smart expression.
"What you heard was a couple of First Ranks gossiping. That's nothing compared to what's been actually going around in the air." I said.
Sarvwen mock-pouted a little, and shook his head.
"Now, now, before we come to any conclusions, just hear me out." he said. "So you've heard those gossips too. Well, good, cuz that just makes this easier for me."
He shifted a little in his seat, getting comfortable.
"And believe me; it all fits perfectly."
I raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical but at the same time, curious.
"So, are you going to tell me what you heard?" I asked.
Sarvwen sighed contently and leaned back on his chair.
"So you've already heard about the Class A Electus mission, right?" he asked casually.
I scowled, annoyed at how he was drawing the story out.
"Yea, the Elite team was sent out yesterday for an emergency mission. I heard it was probably some vampyre on the loose," I said impatiently.

Sarvwen's smirk grew even more mysterious.
"Yea. There was a vampyre involved, but if what the First ranks said prove to be true, things could either be more interesting or dangerous, however you choose to look at it." he said.
He leaned forward across the table, nodding at me to do the same. I leaned over towards him, feeling a bit ridiculous.
"So what could be so interesting or dangerous, even more than a vampyre?" I asked.
Sarvwen looked around suspiciously before he went on.
"It's interesting when we're not looking for the vampyre." he said.
"What?"
"One of the First Ranks claimed to have been stationed at the Divine Gates, right inside the Court of Legacy when the emergency broke out." he continued. "Supposedly he was the one sent back to base to request a retrieval party."
Retrieval?
"There was a K.I.A.? Who was it?" I demanded, a cold chill shooting through me.
Was it someone I knew? Did the vamp do it? I thought to myself.
But then I saw Sarvwen shake his head.
"The casualty wasn't ours." he said.
I frowned, confused.
"But the retrieval---"
"Yea, I know, I know. They go to retrieve the fallen and the dead. But there was a reason, a true reason for a retrieval team to be assembled for this situation."
"Then what did they go for?" I demanded.
Sarvwen's eyes practically glowed with this strange eagerness and excitement.
"They went to go retrieve a vampyre." he said.

It took a few moments for his words to really sink in.
"WHAT?!" I yelled incredulously, shocked and disbelieving.
I had jumped out of my seat, forgetting that I was supposed to be quiet. Before I could react to my mistake or demand for more info, Sarvwen had me pinned to the floor with his hand over my mouth.
"Dammit, Zavius!" he hissed.
I struggled against his grip, reminding myself not to make a whole lot of sound. He released me, his posture stiffening with tension.
But after few seconds later nothing came and once again we relaxed, too shaky to say anything for a whole minute.
"Dammit," Sarvwen breathed again. "I'm too young to have grey hair, Zavius!"
"For starters, we don't age." I retorted angrily. "And second, you just celebrated your ninety-seventh birthday, what are you talking about?"
I threw a dark gaze at Sarvwen, who just returned an amused look back. It took me another five seconds to get why.
"What the hell, you already have grey hair!"
Sarvwen grinned widely.
"Actually, it's silver, and has been since the day of my birth." he said. "But I get it."
Laughing quietly, I sat up and joined Sarvwen where he was sitting on the floor, his back supported by one of the huge bookshelves.
"So... a vampyre?" I hissed incredulously.
Sarvwen nodded, his expression serious and thoughtful.
"Yea. Someone on a partol mission to the Living found her. She was already Vanquished when they found the body." he said.
"But...what killed her?" I asked, prying for more info.
To my surprise, Sarvwen shrugged. He looked a bit troubled.
"That's the thing; they don't know." he said.
I hummed thoughtfully to myself, slowly digesting all the info.
"So they sent out an Electus team to hunt something they don't know?"
"I don't know, Zavius. All I heard was that it was a clean kill."
"Clean?"
Sarvwen's face became thoughtful.
"It was a fight. The vampyre lost in a battle." he said.
I thought hard, trying to put it all together.
"A werewolf attack?"
Sarvwen shook his head.
"No, it was a clean kill. A perfect execution. A work of a pro."

A perfect execution. Clean. Work of a pro.
It definitely didn't match a work of a werewolf; they tore and bit at anything they could get at.
Another vampyre?
Again, it was unlikely. Vampyres were cruelest in a life-ending battle.
"Could we... could it be one of ours?" I asked thoughtfully.
Sarvwen gave me a skeptical look.
"An Immortal? A Guardian? It wouldn't make sense." he said. "Why would anyone kill a vampyre and hide it? That's an honor-worthy feat."
Then what was it?
"Hm... your stories were interesting. Thanks for sharing." I said.
Sarvwen smiled lightly.
"I told you so," he said. "You think it's worth looking into?"
I considered.
"I don't know; we'll have to figure out if the rumors are valid in anyway. We don't know what was stretched and what's accurate in the story." I pointed out.
Sarvwen looked almost disappointed. I got up and stretched.
"You know, if it's all true, it's going to be a great stir." I mused, righting the chair I had knocked over earlier. I picked up my book from the table and turned back to my friend.
"You never know; it may all be true."

Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and a couple of scattered 'thuds' from somewhere behind us.
"Vardavit! someone swore loudly, their voice strained.
I looked back at Sarvwen. He gave me a questioning look and stood up. Silently, we followed the sound through the maze of bookshelves.
Just couple of turns and down a few isles lead us to the source of the racket.

Books were strewn randomly in the isle we stood in, some opened face down in a manner that would've sent any patron screaming. The ladder was on the ground at a lopsided angle where it fell.
And dangling from the very top of the bookshelf, a good fifteen-feet up, was a girl, clinging onto the shelf for dear life.