[attr="class","aurelie-lyrics"]Every man should lose a battle in his youth,
so he does not lose a war when he is old.

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It was bittersweet to return to Sootopolis, even if it was for something as uplifting and beneficial as a completed sword commission for a lovely customer. Bitter, because something that should never have been ceded away had been compromised—but far too late to save the city or anyone who drowned or died in battle.

But sweet too, because it gladdened Aurelie's heart nevertheless to see the city still standing. After all that Kyogre, the other Legendaries like Rayquaza or Necrozma, and the League had done to Sootopolis, it was rebuilding and restoring itself. Even though she didn't live here, she was proud of it anyway.

At Hana's comments, she flashed a warm smile toward the holder of her second source of pride, the slim yet deadly sword crafted to house the spirit of the Honedge from the burnt katana. Aurelie hadn't expected the blade to change to jet-black, considering she hadn't anodized or treated it to appear darker. Yet, before Hana sheathed it, the blade looked like a streak of shadow, its edge glistening like obsidian.

It was one of the strangest and most delightful swords Aurelie had ever made, and she'd once forged a sword imbued with Cryogonal crystal for Admin Cross. Not to mention the Necrozma metal sword for Calyrex. Still, neither of those involved eldritch rituals to contain a warrior ghost.

"Beautiful and a little frightening, eh? I think that compliment can be reflected right back to its giver," she replied playfully, sliding on a pair of large sunglasses. A faded baseball cap hid her distinctive red hair from view.

Unfortunately, it probably didn't hide her blush as she looked down hastily and drew her own, humbler weapon: a knife with a long, wide blade almost akin to a machete. "But yup, let's get going. I do always love taking my own work on a test drive."

In a less flirtatious, more matter-of-fact tone, she added, "Though it sucks to have to use it here, in our city. But we all know that League people usually aren't nearly as honorable or compassionate as they pretend to be."

As if on cue, they heard a sharp scream from a nearby alleyway, followed by the sounds of a scuffle: the meaty thwack of a club or a heavy fist smacking into flesh, followed by muffled whimpers of distress. Aurelie drew in a startled breath. Beckoning to Hana, she rushed into the mouth of the alleyway.

"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us," she grumbled. "Well, if there's any peace to be kept, let's keep it, shall we?"

---

Aoki Hana | Mission: Post the First Wave

"Hah, confident! How unlike you!"

The woman had taken some effort to hide any distinguishing qualities, but Hana had not. Her ostentatious yukata was dazzling as ever, ornaments jingling in her hair. And the swords, always two swords at least, on her hip. A ninja might blend in, conceal himself, but she was no warrior of shadows.

"You ain't the least bit frightening to me, Lev. But that other thing? Well, embrace it, that's what I say!"

She rebuffs the woman's comments, assuming she was complimenting herself. Whether it's willful or not, it's impossible to say. Any wry smirk is lost in the dark.

The scream steals their attention, leaving any attempt to clarify behind them as they enter the alleyway. The blade in Hana's hand flickers in the dim light, shadows themselves playing off its edge. It seems to guide her through the dark, toward the sudden chaos.

"Right on cue," she whispers, as if she'd known something would happen. Invite two warring factions to the same town, and whatever 'peace' they held was temporary.

As they creep down the alleyway, she hears two men's voices. One laughs at the other's joke. Then, she hears the distress of a woman, calling a man's name. The man on the ground isn't moving. Presumably, the work of one of the larger men's Marowak, standing at his side, hefting a large femur up and down.

"A civvie?" She creeps closer, leading Aurelie closer to the men as she tries to catch a glimpse of the injured man's face. "Or d'you recognize him?"