Shadowborn

Chapter One

She was running, the wind at her back, pushing her along. The night sky was covered with a blanket of clouds. Wind weaved its way through the few trees that grew upon the barren land. Dying grass crumbled as the half-elf's feet landed on the ground. Her legs ached, but she kept pushing herself forward. Her breath came out short and quick, visible in the cold air. She could feel her pace slowing, her energy quickly depleting. She couldn't afford to stop. Not now. Not when she was this close to the border.
Eventually, her legs gave out. She collapsed to the brittle ground, her chest heaving as it fought for oxygen. The elf needed to rest, but her mind screamed at her to keep going. Ignoring it, she leaned against a charred tree, closing her eyes against the sharp air.

She jolted upright as a howl pierced her ears. It sounded as though it were in pain. It was scratchy and rough. The howl wasn't that of a wolf. It was too... broken. Lycan.
Forgetting about the pain in her legs, she began to run again. She heard the creature getting closer. No matter how fast or how far she ran, she knew it would outrun her. All she had to do was make it to the border. The werewolf couldn't go past the river, not when it was tied to this kingdom.
The wolf grew nearer; she could almost feel its hot breath on her back. She pushed herself forward, the river was close, but the wolf was closer. She was almost there.
She was pushed to the ground, sharp claws digging into her back, ripping through her shirt and her skin. A scream of surprise and pain tore at her throat. Her body went numb; everything became numb. She felt herself fall into nothingness.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It almost seemed like a distant dream. Had it not been for the pain coursing through her body, she would have believed it to be just that. Her chest ached with every breath she took. She felt the presence of someone beside her but didn't open her eyes, fearing that she'd be back where she had started, back with her brother.
After a few minutes, a heavily accented voice broke through the silence. "I know you are awake." The voice didn't belong to her brother, nor did it sound familiar. "It is okay. You are safe here."
She forced her eyes to open. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. There was someone sitting on a chair to her left, a book in hand.
His green eyes stared at her. Blond hair was plated back with a leather strap. He wore black leather armor that had been stained and repaired in some areas. There was an iron dagger laying on a table beside him.
"You were found passed out just short of the border. Your attacker seemed to be long gone, leaving you to bleed out." He sighed when she didn't answer him. "My name is Strider, and you are?"
"Vienne," she muttered, more focused on trying to figure out where she was.
It was a small area with little room to hold the bed, let alone a chair and a bedside table. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were all made of cracked stone. A hole had been carved out of one wall for a doorway. There wasn't much else in the room other than a tankard, a half empty bottle of ale, and a mirror hanging next to the doorway.
"If you can walk, go up the stairs on the left," he said, motioning to the doorway. "I will be up there." Without saying anything else, Strider got up, grabbed the dagger laying on the table, and walked out, leaving her alone in a foreign place.

Vienne sat up, wincing at the sharp pain in her back. She pushed herself off the bed, using the table as a crutch. She didn't think she'd be able to make it up a flight of stairs considering how much energy that took, but she continued to push herself. Leaning against what she could, she slowly crossed the room, pausing in front of the mirror.
The reflection staring back at her looked sickly and pale. Her hair was slightly knotted and fell loosely over her shoulders. Not bothering to fix it, she inched out of the room and up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, there was a large room with a long table and a fireplace. The table curved around the middle of the floor which contained a fire pit for cooking. Seated at the table was Strider and a few others.
"Ah, she made it," he exclaimed when he saw her, pausing the conversation. "You are a fighter, I can tell." He walked towards her and offered to help her the rest of the way. Cautiously, she took it, leaning on him as he matched her pace. They stopped in front of the others, and he helped her into an empty chair. "I would like you to meet Chrysanthis, Noël, and Devon," he said, motioning to each of them in turn. "Three of the seven Shatterdawn thieves."

She studied the three others in the room. They all wore the same black leather armor.
Chrysanthis had a happy and friendly feel about her. She had hazel eyes that seemed to change color with the flame from the hearth. Her red hair hung over her shoulder in a loose braid, and a few stray hairs had fallen in her face. She was short, but she held herself high.
Noël was quite the opposite. He seemed dark and brooding. Shaggy black hair framed his face but fell in his eyes, keeping them from view. His posture was slouched, almost as if he was scared of something. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled back to reveal a tattoo of a sword piercing a moon on his left wrist. Further examination showed that the rest of them had the same tattoo.
Devon held himself confidently, giving off authority. His arms were crossed in front of his chest as he looked Vienne up and down, his almost black eyes trying to pry their way under her skin. His hair was short and silver.

Once she was satisfied with what she found, she turned her attention back to Strider. "That must mean I'm in Acradal then." Her voice came out in a harsh whisper.

Acradal, more commonly known as the lost kingdom, was a territory where a king no longer ruled. The castle had been destroyed a few hundred years ago, and it became a city where guilds made their home. The Shatterdawn thieves were the first to settle here, taking the largest house for themselves and building down into the sewer. Soon after, travelers moved to the kingdom, making it the somewhat lively place Occathia knew today.

"That you are," Chrysanthis said, her voice was soft and sweet. "Why don't we get you something to eat," she insisted. "You must be hungry."
Slowly, Vienne nodded, not knowing whether or not she could trust them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later, the half-elf was more herself than she had been. She didn't feel as weak as before. While she was eating, she kept asking questions, trying to see what they would and wouldn't tell her. To her surprise, they answered most of them, but she figured they weren't being all that honest.
Devon was the leader of the guild, which explained why he was so confident. Noël had a twin sister, Naleana, who was also in the guild. They were identical in every way, even their personalities. The two other members were named Venarius and Ezra; they were said to be in another kingdom.
She had figured out how long each of them had been in the guild, and was shocked when Devon said he had been in it his whole life. Vienne and Strider soon became friends. Though they were more similar than she'd like to admit, it was comforting for her to know that there was someone who understood her.

"What can I do to join the guild," Vienne asked, her voice quiet. The four thieves seated around her, stared at her, confused. "Believe it or not, I'm a good thief," she sighed. "That's why I was in Vretis."
"Is that why you were found unconscious near the border? Because you're a good thief?" Noël snarked. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but good thieves don't get caught."
"That was from, um, something else," she countered.
"Yeah? Like what?"
She didn't like his tone of voice. "That's something you don't need to know," Vienne finalized. She could already tell that they wouldn't get along too well.
"That's enough," Devon ordered when Noël opened his mouth to say something else. He turned his attention to Vienne, once again trying to pry his way into her head. "What exactly did you steal?"
"It wasn't in my possession when I woke up," she stated.
"So it was the ring. You stole the seal of Hrafn?"
"Right under the king's nose."
The man sitting across from her reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. He tossed it to me. "A rule we have here is that you get to keep what you steal as long as it's not something the guild assigns you."
Vienne nodded her thanks, fumbling with the cold metal she had become familiar with.
"I'd say you have proven yourself," Devon said, standing up.
"We haven't even seen-" Noël started, but he was cut off.
"She stole the seal of Hrafn," Chrysanthis said, "I think that's more than enough."
To her right, Strider grunted in agreement. "If Devon says so, welcome to the guild, Vee."

~*~*~*~*~*~

The young half-elf sat on the bed she was given, twisting the ring in her hand. She smiled at the thought of finally being a part of something. She finally had a place where she felt she could belong. A place with people who were like here. A place where she belonged.