The Evergreen Thieves

We Do What We Must

Sage

Did he really expect me to just walk away? Sage thought, gripping the edge of a crate, pulling herself up. She could understand that Cillian had his ghosts to deal with, everyone in Forelaetan had someone's ghost following them, however, what she couldn't understand was the need to do it alone. A weight like that would only drown her.

She hoisted herself upon another crate, pulling her closer to the roof. The midnight sea breeze grew stronger the further she climbed, causing her to take off her mask for a moment. She'd hitch one foot in a crack, then grab the building's window seal, dragging herself up further and further until she reached the roof. She slid down its slanted frame, the metal screeching slightly under her boots, until she was at the edge, with a bird's eye view of the alley.

Cillian was below, holding his hands behind his head, gun pointed to his back. "Imbecile." She muttered, not meaning it for Cillian who turned his back on an armed officer, but for the poor man who would dare corner The Amaryllis, especially in such small quarters.

She noticed the subtle tapping of his gloved finger against his midnight hair. He's going to pull a gun. Now she considered him foolish, she considered anyone who would stray from hand to hand combat to be at least slightly half-witted.

She glanced around for a way to help him. She considered just dropping down on top of the guard to knock him out, however, then they'd still be at a loss for answers. The objective was to grab one officer, bring him to the Snapdragon safely, then drop him wherever we see fit. What did we do? Probably piss off the whole guard... or possibly just who sent them here. She thought, assuming her sudden sarcasm is a result of Cillian's awful humor.

Bored of Cillian's charades below, she pulled out a small pin from her pocket that she stole off an officer, taking a more observant look. Red and Gold, House of De Loughrey.

Now, why would they send the guard after us? We hardly stole anything of value. She traced her fingers along with the symbol, knowing exactly where to curve her fingers to follow the golden acanthuses.

Two shots rang.

She returned the pin to her pocket and rushed to look over the ledge, and to her relief, Cillian was standing, safe from what she could see; however, the officer was on the ground, hunched over, cradling his foot.

Thank the heavens, he didn't kill our lead. She thought, sitting back against the roof reveling in pure relief.

"You can come down Sage!" Cillian shouted from below.

Of course, he knew where I was. She slid down the roof, dropping down to a fire escape on the side of the building. She climbed on the railing, flipping to the ground.

Cillian rolled his eyes, "Show off." He mumbled, clenching his forearm.

She suddenly noticed the blood dripping from the sleeve of his jacket, seeping slowly through his coat. He was shot. She thought, about to reach out to check the wound however he snatched his arm away from her reach.

"Get the officer. I'm fine." He said, starting to walk off.

She wanted to chase after him and grab his arm anyway, forcing him to let her help for once, but it would only make matters worse.

Let him drown then. She thought, tugging off her long scarf. She approached the man cradling his wounded foot. He was older than her and yet she felt as though she was comforting a young child; crouching down beside him to be at his eyes height as he stained his bronzed hands with vermilion blood.

"What's your name?" She asked, softly grabbing his hands.

He didn't answer, probably wishing away this situation, but he also didn't fight against her grip.