Eight Intertwined

130 - Midnight

Olberic closed his eyes halfway, just enough to feign sleep, as the light from the hall of the inn readily leaked in through the open doorway. He couldn't make out any defining features of the new arrival, though he was confident that was the point. Olberic hadn't seen much of the spy that had been haunting the group for so long, but he was sure this was the same person. How in the world could it not be? The spy had known the group was hunting them all day, and now, they had decided to return the favor by hunting in return. 

Olberic wished he had seen this coming. The spy had never lashed out this way before, so it was understandable why he hadn't jumped to this conclusion when the spy wasn't immediately discovered, but now, he just cursed himself for not having seen it coming sooner. Of course they were trying to take out the travelers in the middle of the night. Olberic didn't know what they wanted specifically, but he was certain it was dangerous and awful. Beyond that, he was sure now more than ever: the person behind the stalking was after Cyrus. Why else would they have come here? Olberic would have heard screaming if they went to the other rooms first. They wanted Cyrus, and it had to be about that tome. No wonder the group had noticed what was happening in Quarrycrest; the spy had been more pronounced with their actions since they were close to finally stopping Cyrus' investigation. That endeavor failed, but they had come close, and that was all it took for the travelers to notice. 

Sure enough, the figure in black stalked over to the other side of the room where Cyrus was sound asleep. He was a heavy sleeper and always had been, something Olberic was thankful for when he was haunted by the terrors of his past in the middle of the night. Now though, Olberic just wished Cyrus would wake up and do something. 

But Olberic wasn't going to sit back and watch without doing something. He reached for the knife stashed beneath his pillow, doing his best to remember what little he had read about when it came to throwing weapons in the past. He knew this dagger was hardly meant to be thrown at an opponent, but he didn't have any other options if he wanted to be swift. 

So in one fluid motion, Olberic sat up and threw the knife at the assailant with as much force as he could muster. His aim was slightly off, and the blade instead embedded itself in the wall between where the shadow of the attacker's shoulder and head rested. They whirled around to face him immediately, reaching for a dagger of their own as was hidden beneath the swirling fabric of their cloak. 

Olberic reached for his sword, not bothering to pull it from its sheath as he swung as hard as he could at the attacker. He didn't slash them with the blade's edge, at least not at first, but the strike from the sheath of rock the Sword of Stone lived in was enough to send them staggering. The spy let out a groan of pain that was clipped and difficult to make out. Olberic wanted to use it as some hint or another as to who the assailant really was, but he couldn't hear enough of the noise nor did he find it familiar. 

The spy was quick to recover though, and they slashed their dagger at Olberic with far more force than they had any right to possess. He deflected the attack with the Sword of Stone, and that once again sent the spy stumbling backward. Olberic glanced over the door, wondering if perhaps they would try to make an escape as soon as they realized they wouldn't be able to get away with the attack without any consequences. 

Looking away for a moment was Olberic's greatest mistake. 

"Olberic...? What in the--"

Cyrus had woken up thanks to the chaos, and he was rubbing at his eyes with one sleepy hand. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness, leaving him unable to make out many details aside from the meager shadows cast by the light out in the hallway. He realized who the spy was a moment too late, and his eyes went wide, flickers of white in the darkness.