Tearha: The Number 139

Chapter Twenty-Three: Algid Angel

They moved under the cover of the night, coats tied tight around their bodies to prevent even the slightest fluttering. Nadier spun the daggers in his hands out of habit while following closely behind the leader of the assassination squad. They jumped the walls that surrounded the manor and landed at the edge of the garden.

The leader signalled for Nadier with a wave before pointing to a building on the far right. Nadier waved back with two fingers to signify an understanding. His target was in that building.

They split up, with the leader melding into the shadow as she headed for the main hall. Nadier stepped around, circling a small pond as he headed for the far right bedchamber. A steady, yellow incandescent light cast a cross from the window onto the ground. Slowly, he peeked around the light and once affirming there was no one else within the room, slowly lifted the panel open.

In a swift motion, he jumped over while holding onto the lintel. Legs first, the dark elf smoothly slid into the room, landing with nary a sound.

Once in, Nadier let out, "What the..."

It was the soft, steady breathing that immediately drew his attention to his surroundings. An arid of colours splashed across the room. Maroon, teal, brown and green made up the walls of splattered art. Wooden toys littered the floor, with a few copper carriage models thrown into the mix. He was surprised he had not stepped on any of them from his entrance. A copper lamp stood on a nightstand with a bottle of milk with a small gas pump spinning the shade of the lamp, casting shadows of animals dancing across the walls.

A wooden crib sat peacefully in the corner of the room on the far side of the door. Gripping his dagger tight, Nadier walked up to the crib and peered into it. Within, the baby not even old enough to have tufts of hair lay asleep.

"It's just a child..." Nadier muttered.

He had not agreed to it. His orders were to kill the Umbersin family, including the heir, but nothing mentioned an infant. It was likely not needed to. Dark elf assassins were meant to follow orders regardless. They must have not thought him independent enough to question. And while he had killed many in his line of work, he had never harmed a child. But it was his mission. His duty. His order.

With knife in hand, the dark elf stood speechless. An untrained line of thoughts ran through his mind. He was bred as assassin. And assassins of the dark elves were as good as a soldier, if not better. An order was the law. Insubordination was met with a trial, and have always ended with death.

He reached for the lamp on the nightstand and with a slight push, sent it breaking into the ground. The baby began to stir, its eyes slowly focussing on the dark figure before.

Nadier muttered, "I'll come back when you're older."

The whispers of guards from outside signalled his exit, and the assassin quietly slipped out the window as the baby began crying.

***

He woke to the muffled voice of the guards of Ta'Kalenyilgah – The Gate of Dark Kings – outside. At first, it was hard to hear what the elven soldiers were saying through the thickness of the walls of the crates, but as his mind slowly crawled back to life, the words clarified.

"Any undesirables?" the guard asked.

"No, sir," the trader replied. "Just crates of fruits and vegetables."

"Very well. We'll still have to look over your goods. These are just standard procedures."

"Of course," the trader replied. Nadier found the grip of his daggers.

The caravan shook as a guard got onto the trailer. "Are those tinbreroot I smell?"

"Yes. Fresh off the coast."