Elemental Thief Part I : Child of Calamity

Observers

Sandar knew he knew better than to put himself into a dangerous situation for no gain and a great deal of risk. He didn't even know why he had chosen to go to begin with; he had done more than was characteristic when he had tipped off Darya the other night.

But he was getting old, and soft, and he knew she hadn't heeded his warning to back off, either time he had given it. Besides, he was a little perturbed that this empire thought it could threaten his life for merely choosing not to work for them. Granted, he knew more than they wanted people to know, and he could see the practical side of needing to try to kill him, but he was also inclined to want to live, and rather spiteful when people tried to take that inclination away.

So he was in this crowded ballroom, trying to keep tabs on the two contacts he knew worked for the Empire. One was going to try to kill the Queen, and anyone else he could kill before dying himself, trying to destabilise Clairval to help the empire with its invasion.

The other one was watching, to see what was happening there, as well as something else that Sandar hadn't quite put together yet. Sandar had no plans of playing hero and stopping the assassination, though he watched the bumbling fool working up to the event and realized no one noticed the man, sweating, staring at the Queen, and that despite his ineptitude, the noble-turned-traitor just might kill the young Queen.

He had lost the other contact in the crowd, and was splitting his time between watching the disaster of an assassination attempt form and trying to find the one who was just observing. The observer worried him, because he didn't understand it, and with the stakes so high, he needed to understand. Sandar needed to know what he was facing when he went home and gave his report.

Perhaps the Empire had chosen better than he gave them credit for.

Such incompetence could work when everyone was looking for a brutal, cruel killer. Then Sandar saw the real reason he was there, the only one in the room picking out the threat, just like he had trained her to do. He hadn't had nearly enough time around her, and so his half-learned lessons were obviously only good enough for her to use to get into trouble, and not enough to teach her how to get out of it.

Darya would rush into the danger, like she always did. It was the reason he had fallen in love with her, and the reason he had known that she would never make a good rogue. She was needed at the front of a battle, not in the background sifting through the shadows. She was a brilliant star that shone far too brightly to ever be a part of the dark underworld that he waded through to keep his people safe.

He was about to step out of his cover, judging how quickly he could cross the dance floor, when his roving eye caught sight of the tall, redheaded man with the beautiful eyes. He caught the man's eyes and figured he could just direct that fool onwards, without blowing his cover. The man just about took it, would have turned and helped Darya. If an overly eager lesser noble walking hadn't bowled him over through him in an attempt to catch sight of what would be happening.

Sandar grinned and focused in on his target then, shifting so he could watch both, even as a commotion distracted the rest of the room, as if on cue. Sandar felt his heart twist, watching Darya step into line of the man's blade, seeing even in her sword movements that she still went for the kill, over the defence.

He probably noticed where the man's second blade went before she did, though she had a knack for killing decidedly, impaling his brain on her blade. "Not worth it, sugar. I taught you better than that."

He didn't stop to contemplate the feeling of loss that suddenly hit him, as everyone else in the room caught up with what he watched in slow motion. Turning, instead, to see the observer back away from the crowd, before turning and taking off running. Sandar shook his head and took off after the man, knowing with a chilling certainty that he wouldn't let him finish the night still breathing.

The man didn't know he was being pursued, and both of them had slipped through the crowd and out of the hall before the Guard began to lock it down, leaving them slipping through the shadows of the Palace as everyone was looking the other way. The man slowed down to a careful stroll, clearly not wanting to attract attention, and Sandar look the opportunity to use his power to put on his cloak and the loose scarf that covered his lower face, slipping closer.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning lashed through the sky, bringing a downpour of rain that soaked him to the bone, despite the cloak.

Sandar didn't know why he acted when he did, stepping out of the shadows and attacking the man before they left the palace grounds, finding himself grappling with a man larger than he was and more skilled than Sandar had given him credit for. The man got one good punch in, and nearly escaped, but didn't run fast enough, letting Sandar tackle him to the ground and silence his struggling by putting a knife to the man's throat.

"You can stop struggling. You're never going to make it back to report to your contact. They were probably going to kill you if you did, anyway." Sandar growled, meeting the man's eyes, finding them shift from one colour to another, one that seemed to glow with a dark, inner light.

"You're a fool. The report has been made." The voice was unfamiliar, and accented with a completely different language than Clairvalan.

Sandar cursed and shoved the hilt of his blade into the man's mouth hard, stopping him from biting down long enough to allow Sandar to fish the poison pill out of the man's mouth. "Ah, so you even sold your body, as well as your soul. They've hijacked you and are riding around in your head?"

The man was quiet, glaring at him, though perhaps because of the leather hilt in his mouth that kept him from talking.

"You failed, by the way. All you managed to do was make them angry."

Sandar snatched the knife out, adjusting his weight on the man as he felt him tensing, preparing to struggle, though whatever creature was controlling him merely laughed. "I don't fear the anger of insects."

"And you are?" Sandar pushed, realising too late that he should have killed the man minutes ago, as the man started laughing, and Sandar looked up to find himself surrounded by armed, angry winged individuals, as well as two humans, one of which he hadn't formerly met.

The formidable admiral of the nation watched him with a dark expression, though he could tell she was trying to figure him out.

"Before you say or do anything, know that they have a direct conduit into this man, and can see anything and everything that is taking place. Anything is information that our enemy can use." Sandar focused on the human woman, banking on a hope that she would be the more calm and rational person in the group.

He didn't even try to resist as he was grabbed roughly from behind and restrained, Prince Davanos hauling the other man up and lifting him off the ground by the throat.

Davanos growled up at the man he was holding. "Good. I welcome them to look at us, and realise that there isn't a single place on this planet that is safe for any of them."

Sandar wasn't sure who he believed more, the one who could control another person's body, or an angry, feral looking winged Feysha.

He also wasn't sure what was the worst of his worries, seeing as how he had gotten himself caught and obviously arrested in a country far from his own. And the only one who he might be able to convince to believe him was possibly already dead.