Into the Shadows

I. Niyuki

A sharp, intense and cold wind met my face, whipping a few flyaways from my hair in all different directions, biting against my skin, but I ignored it. Though it annoyed me, I had more pressing matters to direct my mind's attention to. The dark stone buildings on either side of the black asphalt street where I crept offered no comfort, shield from the wind, nor protection from the chills that crept up my spine, although my bodily temperature had nothing to do with the weather in the dead of the night. 

In a low, cautious and soundless gait, I blended in with the shadows I had been taught to become part of, hiding myself in order to avoid the night guard's many unforgiving steel blades that I had had the pleasure of tasting quite a few times. I glanced downwards at the slip of cracked parchment that had earlier been pressed into my hand by a stranger that a sinking suspicion in me told me I knew all too well, and read it for the hundredth time that day:

Wait for me behind the Elanor Mansion. Ten.

Oh, I would. Perhaps only to see what she could offer me, then dump her body in the sewers when I was through with her. Fucking traitor. I bared my teeth at the cobblestones in vexation and exhaled angrily through tightly clenched teeth.

 I walked three more paces, my footsteps scraping against the stones beneath me almost unintelligibly. I heard a noise farther ahead-someone who obviously wasn't bothering to be quiet; so it must've been an officer. As he came into view, I found my assumption to be correct. dressed in the dark navvy blue and gold of Audax, he was twirling a weak-looking baton in his right hand, dropping it occasionally. Klutz.

I fumbled with the leather strap that lay across my chest, and loosed the dart gun that lay secure within it. With six darts that I had already used on the patrol, I only had four left. Shit—it might've not been enough to work if there were more officers on duty in this area. And while it was my job, I preferred not to kill, unless absolutely necessary.

A few minutes later, once again sheathing the weapon; now just one dart left, I halted near the manor. Unarmed save for the daggers strapped on her legs, someone I hadn't seen in what felt like ages stood near a low window, her back to me and staring up at the starless sky above us, arms crossed. She turned suddenly, and I had to remember that we were of the same professions: thievery and murder. The instincts were a sign of it. Nevertheless, my hands subconsciously moved to the dual swords hanging from either side of my hips and only when she held her hands up in a sign of surrender did I slow my movements.

 She looked the same as I remembered from before, though her face looked different under the moon's glow. Scars, I noticed, covered nearly her entire body—easily visible beneath her half-assed attempt to cover them with makeup. I hoped that they had come from me, but then again, they probably hadn't, considering the extreme sharpness and depth each cut left. Not my style.

Cerulean blue eyes, dozens of dark braids that encircled her head, and rich, deep brown skin made up her appearance; but the true giveaway that this was truly her were the signs of her exploited wealth all around her: golden hilted majead daggers—from Taran, no doubt—various jeweled yet simplistic rings she wore, and the polished leather bag that hung from her left shoulder.

"The moons are rather bright, yes? And with an odd angle to Mars and Pluto," she said in a calm, serene voice a few moments after noticing me, as though she was hypnotized.

"Do you hear yourself, you batshit crazy psycho? Did you learn astronomy with the other inmates or something?" I said. 

Her thin lips split into a ghost of a smile as she tilted her head and changed her tone entirely. "You haven't changed at all since you started killing and stealing for money, have you." It was worded as a question, but her voice remained cold and emotionless.