Chapter 2

Hey ya’ll, this is going to be a long one, so I split it up into a couple chapters. They will fuck eventually, I promise!

Slark fidgeted and screwed up his face in front of the looking glass and adjusted his collar for the umpteenth time. It had been quite some time since the fish had done anything social: much less a -date-; as such, he wanted to look his absolute best. Having spent most of his life locked up inside Dark Reef had left him jaded towards others, seeing relationships as strictly give-and-take. Of course, that was ages ago, feeling almost like a lifetime - certainly different circumstances now that Slark was a decorated Dire hero. Hero. That word still felt alien to him, yet here he was, being held up as some sort of legend or champion, all for doing what he did best.

Which brought it all back around to yesterday. Midway through a particularly long and hard-fought battle, Slark inexplicably found himself trapped inside a copse of trees, separated from the rest of his team. He had followed telltale signs of movement and trails into the trees, but couldn’t seem to find who made them, the trail abruptly ending in this clearing. He peeked around each tree, checked every path but to no avail - his quarry seemed to have eluded him. Scoffing loudly, he turned to leave, suddenly finding himself unable to do so. His legs seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, and blue energy crackled between all his limbs. Sensing an obvious attack, he triggered his ink sacs, only to find that it seemed to be caught in his throat; a dark purple smoke cloud had descended on the nightcrawler, and he was completely helpless. “I know you can’t see me, and I know you can here me quite well, so listen closely.” A calm male voice cut through the dark smoke, seeming to come from directly behind Slark; he attempted to jerk his head around, but still being caught in that strange blue energy succeeded in only moving his wide, frightened eyes.

“I’ve been watching you for some time Slark, and I must admit I find you intriguing. Now, I can easily end this and send you right back to your fountain, but I have a proposition for you. Would you care to hear it?” The voice added with amusement, obviously aware he could not respond.

“This war has made me quite weary, and quite frankly I find the whole thing tedious. But you are quite interesting, so how about this. I will let you walk away from here free and clear and more importantly alive, if you agree to meet me tomorrow after dusk. Shall we say at Hobb’s End Tavern? I’m sure you know where that is, as it’s so close to Shadeshore, and by proxy your hut. Do we have a deal?” The voice asked. Slark was (literally and mentally) speechless, and altogether intrigued as to who the voice belonged to. If it weren’t for the non-extradition pact the Dire had sealed with Dark Reef long ago, he would’ve suspected the voice belonged to some spurned prison guard. He was furious about being caught so easily of course, but curiosity overwhelmed his anger. Now able to move his head just a little, he nodded lightly.

“Good. And wear something nice. It is a date, after all.” The voice finished, the smoke suddenly clearing. Slark fell to his knees and crawled forward weakly, the lack of oxygen flowing over his gills finally taking it’s toll. Strange thoughts flooded his mind. Interesting, him? And a date, with a male to boot! This was quickly taking the fish outside his comfort zone of stabbing and more stabbing.