The clock tower of the city was seen in the distance, as the moon hung high in the night sky. Down below in the streets, rain was trickling from the gloominess above. A mysterious man in a hooded trench coat was walking, alone. His boots paced over the cobblestone as he arrived to the local tavern. As the door creaked open, many travelers were present, drinking with groups of others, or checking in to the lodging upstairs.

Shadows casted over the electric blue eyes of the man, as he proceeded to the bar, taking a seat. The bar tender was cleaning a glass, looking to the strange man. The mysterious figure sat down five zircon on the table, some blood dripped down his left hand with the currency.

"..." The mysterious figure did not speak, menacingly staring from beneath the darkness for his hood. The only notable features was his soul patch, and snake bite lip piercings.

The bartender set down a drink, placing it on top of a piece of folded paper. "The crow flies at midnight."

"...Grazie." The intimidating man replied, quietly with a dark tone. He took the paper, slipping it into his pocket. Dry blood coated his hand to his fingertips. He took a quick drink, before standing back to his feet.

Some of the other patrons stared to the mysterious figure as he made his way back to the entrance. Whispers were muttered amongst them.

"What's a shady bloke like that doing in Belmont?" One whispered to another.

"Not sure, but I've seen several wanted posters lately. This fellow, looks like the Amygdala that the Templar are after." Replied a whispering elf.

"Are you certain? If we can catch him, think of all that zircon reward money." The other whispered back.

The mysterious man shot a sharp glare to them, making them both jolt back in their seats. They looked off frantically, as the man left the tavern. Stepping outside, the rain was coming down harder, forcing the figure to take shelter under a building's canopy to view the message. It was a map, directions to another place in town. He pocketed it, vanishing off into the darkness.

Across town, a small person dressed like a plague doctor stood outside. The rain was thinning out, as the long mask on their face stared to the misty sky. A black cloak shrouded over their black attire, barely showing the red scarf around their neck. The doctor held a lantern on a stick in one hand, illuminating the dark path.

"He runs, staying from sight. No one sees, but everyone knows. A wanted man, full of gloom and doom, the one with the spider tattoo. The Templar are looking, but where does he hide?" Spoke the soft male voice of the boy dressed like a plague doctor, in a slow manner.

His head turned, looking to the darkness from a nearby building. From it, the mysterious man stepped forth, looking to the boy as he pulled out the map, holding it in view. The man looked to the boy with a cold expression. "The crow flies at midnight?" His tone was unamused.

The boy approached him, taking the paper. "...I see." he looked to it quietly.

"...Keep your cryptic remarks to yourself." The mysterious figure insisted, coldly.

The boy looked to the shady man. "So concerned someone will hear, the knights are looking, but are they near? Murderer they cry. Kill him they say. Who is really the one to fear, him or they?"

"..." The man looked displeased.

"Apologies. You have came seeking me, is there something I can do? What perhaps ails you?" The young doctor looked to him.

The man drew closer, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm. There was a large gash up his wrist, with blood dripping from it. The doctor looked to the wound.

"Come inside." The young doctor insisted, heading inside a nearby building.

The mysterious man followed after the shorter plague doctor. Inside, the doctor had the man sit, with his arm on the wooden table, as he examined it further.

"A deep wound that would normally bleed you out, but magic has kept the blood at bay. Struggling. Not painful. A self inflicted wound, not meant for self-harm. Ichor magic. Another dead, but who did you kill this time?" The doctor spoke cryptically again, analyzing the wound.

"...Just fix it." replied the shady man, harshly.

"Payment up front." The doctor stated.

The man groaned in annoyance, placing a handful of Zircon to the table. The doctor took it, grabbing is medical utensils.

"Anesthesia?" The doctor asked, pulling to a syringe.

"No." The man replied without hesitation.

"Your funeral." Replied the doctor with a soft tone in a more so casual manner.

The man did not reply, and so the doctor took out the tools needed to mend the wound. With a metal wire, he sewed up the gash, closing it tight. He took a cloth, wrapping it around the sewn cut. After, the mysterious man, pulled his sleeve over it, getting to his feet. He stepped back outside into the rain, but the doctor followed, standing outside the door behind him with his lantern.

"Run while you can, the Templar won't stop hunting, for you're a wanted man. Alone. Forgotten? Hated by all. Loved by no one. Chastised. Forsaken. You killed a man, perhaps three or four? Fear follows like a shadow, for even your kin want to see you in the gallows. A dream weaver has no place in this world. You are a plague. A demon in disguise. Forever to walk alone, covered with the blood of their demise." The doctor spoke cryptically, looking off into the sky.

The mysterious figure halted, shadows covering his face. A fist was clenched as anger brewed in his veins. Without warning or sound, he vanished, but reappeared slamming the doctor into the wall. He held his throat, tight as can be. Positioned to the doctor's side, a knife was pulled in a blink of an eye.

"Anger. You want to kill me, for what I had said. You hate how I am inside your head." The doctor said, showing slight fear. "I feel your emotions, the thoughts within."

"You should've kept your mouth shut." The man sneered, his tone hostile, holding tighter to the doctor's throat, and pushing the blade closer.

A sound of gravel was barely heard from behind, "Seems someone's popular tonight." Spoke a female voice, sounding unamused.

The mysterious man, turned around fast, as his dagger flew passed her face, getting stuck to the wall behind the woman. It was Nye standing there, looking to the situation in play.

"You missed." She said.

"Another one..." The man groaned in annoyance.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to crash your party. I do however have business here." Nye spoke seriously.

"You're asking for trouble." The mysterious figure pulled to another knife.

"Funny. I was about to say the same thing." Nye provoked.

The mysterious man quickly slashed across the doctor's sleeve, slicing open his arm. Blood floated from the wound, around the cloaked man's hand. The doctor slipped down to his knees, holding the injury. Without warning the mystery man dove at Nye, magical blood spiraling around him. He knocked her backwards with a force of the red magic, as some of the blood dripped to the ground.

Nye caught her barrings, forming her sword. The chain coiled around behind her as she faced her foe. The shady figure approached Nye, with a blade to his left side. From the pool of blood a shape like a skeleton rose, armed with a bloody bow. A shot fired, then two and three. They flew at Nye, who spotted them from the corner of her eye. With the chain of her sword, she swung it, knocking the arrows to the ground.

Her eyes focused to the man with a sharp glare, to be met by a piercing sneer. She flew at him, blade in tow, colliding with his knife, as the wind blew from below. Spiraling upwards, from a ghoulish wind of Nye's sword, she shoved him back hard. The man fell to his back, Nye stepping over him to point her sword. His hood had accidentally fallen off, showing Nye the face of the man, who was about her age. Long blueish black hair with long bangs covering his face.

Nye stared briefly. Something recalled in her mind, it was fuzzy, but she could see, a boy laying not too far away from her. A pool of blood was surrounding him. Her boots approached, as she went to pick him up. Curious, yet possibly concerned?

Nye came back to reality, because the man had kicked her back hard with her blade vanishing. She fell back and the roles had swapped without warning. "What's your deal?" The mysterious dark haired man inquired, looking very unamused as he raised a brow. "Leaving an opening is going to get you killed."

"(He's right, these memories are proving to be distracting... just what was that?)" Nye looked to him.

He grabbed Nye's choker with his hand, lifting her closer to his level. "Too scared to fight me?" He spoke coldly, with an empty expression.

"Fear is pointless. I merely was distracted." Nye huffed, looking to him seriously as she grabbed his wrist that held her choker. Another blurred memory crossed her mind. She was quietly watching the boy from her previous vision, from afar. It was almost as if she was stalking him.

Nye came back to reality again, seeing this man staring down at her with piercing eyes. She formed her wings, pulling herself away from him, with a gust. The man caught his footing, as Nye landed to a safe distance.

"Note to self, keep you at a distance." Nye said to herself.

"Hmph." The man grunted, as he grabbed a second knife, rushing at Nye quickly.

She used her wings to fly out of the way, keeping the man at a distance. His boots slid across the gravel as the rain was picking back up once more. He formed into darkness, reappearing from behind her with knives at ready. Quickly, Nye had summoned her sword again, countering the attack. The blades collided, as the two sneered to each other.

His eyes were focused on hers. "..."

"Why are you acting so hostile?" Nye inquired, her tone stern.

"That's none of your business." He growled.

"You made it my business, just saying." Nye stated, with a raised brow.

The mysterious figure's blades retreated, as he ducked. Without delay, he kicked her sword out of Nye's hands. Again, the blade vanished. This allowed the figure to slash at Nye, but she flapped her wings to get above him.

"I'm growing tired of this crap." He scoffed.

The man formed to darkness, knocking Nye out of the sky, and onto the ground. She was slammed into the gravel, as the man knelt over her, one hand holding her down as a knife was angled at her in the other.

Nye stared to him. "Go on, do it." She said, almost daring him. "Maybe I deserve it."

He hesitated, "First you space out, now you're daring me to kill you?...What is your deal, why aren't you scared of me?" He glared to her, hissing slightly.

"You're the one on those wanted posters, I presume. So. Should I be?" Nye inquired, unfazed.

"..." He didn't respond, pulling his knife to Nye's chest, with the point angled to her heart. He was about to thrust it down, when commotion came from not too far off.

"They said he went this way!!" Shouted the Baroness from before.

Her Templar forces were on the main street near the alleyway.

"Dammit. Those Templar have some timing." The man released Nye, turning off fast. His back was turned to her. "Next we meet, you're dead." He spoke coldly, before fleeing into the darkness.

Nye got to her feet, hearing the Templar closing in. She looked over to the doctor, who was still down. Quickly she made her way to him, getting the boy inside his house before the Templar could see them.

"He must be close! Find him!" The Baroness shouted, as the Templar paraded further down the street.

Nye was against the door, and sighed as she watched them leave from the window. "That was close." She turned her attention to the boy.

He looked to her, "I need my medical kit, over there. If you would... be so kind." He winced.

Nye nodded, making her way to it, and brought it back to him. "Here, are you going to be alright?"

"Yes." The doctor pulled out his tools, beginning to fix himself up. His attention was on his infliction now, but he was also feeling Nye's emotions. "Memories of a long since past, a life no longer yours. You froze in place, because of a curious fate. You ponder if you once had killed him, but can't be sure. The song is different now, yet you wonder still. Who is the man marked with the spider tattoo?"

"I beg your pardon?... Wait, you must be another Amygdala then, if you can sense those thoughts." Nye looked to him curiously. "How unexpected."

"Indeed, my friend. You came seeking me out, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The doctor continued to mend his wound.

"My name is Nyghtmare. You once helped me some time ago, when we were kids. I just never knew you were like me." Nye replied.

The doctor paused, looking to her. "I thought you look familiar. An older blond haired girl, getting pushed around by a group of Rhyme. I remember the cut on your knee that they gave you, when they had left you for dead."

"That's right. I've come into some of my family lineage, turns out I'm descendant of Lenault Ghestro. Which leads to why I sought you out." Nye mentioned, taking a seat.

The boy grew quiet, staring to Nye. "With such a statement, it can only be preposterous."

Nye crossed her arms, "I spoke to his ghost, as well as fiends. Mind explaining how that is possible otherwise?" Nye held up her hand, showing the ring. "Not to mention, this?"

"How did you acquire a Ghestro family Heirloom? That ring was shown in illustrations of that mad man." The boy gasped at the sight of the ring.

"As I said, I spoke to his ghost. I'm not too keen on him myself, but I got put into this position. I passed his trial, so now I'm The Queen of Fiends. Like it or not." Nye placed her hand to her hip.

The boy looked to her seriously. "Even as such, our kind isn't allowed such luxuries... The Rhyme would have you labeled a heretic, and thus executed."

"I know that, but I have plans to get things back how they should be. We're no better than the Leashed like this. There are powers in numbers, we just need to build them up. So, as I was trying to explain. I'm gathering forces, and first thing came to mind was, 'we can use a doctor on our side'." She explained.

"I am used to others, however birds of a feather cannot flock together in these times, my friend." The boy replied, finishing his sewing.

Nye pocketed her hands, looking off. "Perhaps your mind would be more at ease, if I mentioned the whereabouts are unknown to the Rhyme? They can't stop, what they don't see."

"A secret place, where the Rhyme do not see? Perhaps a change in surroundings will keep the Templar from binding me. Very well, I accept your offer, my Queen." The doctor said, looking to Nye.

Nye held her hand out to him, "No need for formalities, just call me Nye."

The boy took off his mask, reveling his youthful face. He was white hair with a bit red on his bangs. His red eyes looked to Nye as he took her hand, "Pardon me for the previous remarks. Finch Nostra is my name. A pleasure."

Nye pulled him to his feet. "Don't worry about it." Nye said, letting go of him. "I am curious. Just who was that man who attacked you? I take it he is the one that the Templar have been after for some time. I tried to ask him, but no response."

"I can't be for certain, but he is a wanted felon. Assumed to be like us, but he is certainly not. At least not fully, maybe a bit? Blood based magic is something only a Dream weaver can posses." Finch replied.

"Dream weaver? I've never heard of such a thing?" Nye seemed curious.

"Half an Amygdala, and half a fiend. A forbidden union, for even the parents have shown fear in his presence." Finch explained.

"No wonder he was taken by surprise by my lack of fear. It wouldn't surprise me if that's a hard life to live. I imagine it's what drove him down this path." Nye crossed her arms.

"You should not sympathize with this one. He tried to kill both you and I." Finch sighed.

"Right. (I do wonder however. What were those visions?)" Nye agreed, looking to the door. "I think it should be safe enough to get going. Whatever you want to bring along, best grab it now. Who knows when you'll be back."

"Yes, you have a very good point. One moment please." Finch went to fetch his belongings.

Some time had elapsed and the two made their way for the tunnels. As they proceeded in the dankness of the vast labyrinths, Nye and Finch encountered hordes of monsters. The snarls and growls of the fiends were heard, as drool came from the creatures' jaws. The beasts watched them progress, but yet again, did not aim to attack. Finch was rather intrigued.

"Most curious, the fiends of the deep, only watch as we slither by. Can they not strike, or is some blight within their minds? Perhaps you were right, with you in their sight, they cannot do a thing. Most curious indeed, my queen." Finch remarked, whimsically.

Nye glanced to the other Amygdala oddly, "So you doubted me? Then, what made you decide to come along then, Finch?"

Finch glanced to Nye, keeping his hood overhead. "Protection. Our kind is one of loneliness and sorrow. Templar appears, hindering any interaction. Alas, I wish to aid others, twas I wrong to choose your side, whether I doubted you or not?" Finch explained.

Nye looked head, as they reached the entrance of the underground location. "I see where you're coming from. Together, we can make a difference, maybe." she said, opening the gates.

Upon entering, Miles was sitting on a nearby stone wall. He was eating some food. His tail swished around as his ears shot back at the sight of Finch.

"I thought you were going to bed?" Nye inquired, closing the gates as Finch walked ahead, his bag in tow as he glanced around eagerly.

"Who's he?" Miles huffed.

"Our new physician. His name is Finch Nostra." Nye mentioned, glancing to Finch. "Finch, this is Miles Zetto."

Finch glanced over, looking to Miles. Miles gawked uneasily, only able to stare at that mask. Finch approached, looking closely. "A feline leashed, teenage, male, tabby markings. Your pet, my queen?"

"H-Hey, cut it out." Miles grumbled, growling slightly.

"I took him in, but he is not a pet." Nye explained.

"Most Curious. A stray leashed here, to think of it, you did mention leashed prior. So in assuming, you wish me to treat him like any other, yes?" Finch inquired.

"Correct." Nye nodded.

"Very well. Perhaps now that I am here, you might show me to where I can practice my work?" Finch asked politely.

"This way, I think this room was planned to be used as such." Nye replied, leading Finch off to a place on the lower level.

Miles stared, growling slightly with his ears still backwards. "..."

Elsewhere, back in town. The man with the spider tattoo was sneaking around, with his hood overhead. He glanced from a dark alleyway, as the rain was hitting the cobblestone of the ground. He passed a wanted sign, tearing it from the wall. He tossed it to a nearby trash can, as he continued on. He stopped briefly near another tavern, his vision seeing through a gap in the curtain. Inside was a fire going, as many people were drinking so late. He huffed, looking off with irritation. The man pressed onward, alone into the night.