The Scarred Rat (A Dishonored Fanfiction)

Chapter Four | A Shadow in the Night

It seems like sundown's never going to come, but at the first sign of the orange fire over the buildings to the west, the hideout cast in shadow, I leave for the abandoned and degenerate Rudshore market by foot, taking my dagger along with me just as Daud had asked. Not like I would have left it behind either way.

I open the old, rusty doors that lead into the market, which surely looks nothing like what it once was, and glance around the enclosed area. It seems completely empty, and I remember the weepers who wandered over here that Daud and some other whalers had had to dispose of; there's no sign of them. And no sign of Daud. I walk to the bare tree in the center and lean against its rotting trunk, waiting. I hope the man will keep his promise.

Many minutes pass so that the sun is gone and the few visible stars bright enough to shine through Dunwall's pollution hang in the darkening sky. Finally, I spot movement of the late Daud, but it is not at the doors I had walked through, but rather the ledge above the doors.

So now he's going to show off his own ability to transverse? It's like he wants me to get irritated enough to return to my room and skip this once in a lifetime chance of being properly trained by him. If that is his goal, he'll have to try harder.

The master assassin teleports from the roof down to the ground some distance away from me. I stay silent and look at him expectantly annoyed. I shouldn't be complaining; this is what I have wanted since that night. For once, I suppose I will listen to him.

Slowly, he takes out his saber from its sheath, and I relish the shiver running down my spine as it glints in the faint light. We're really doing this, then.

"Unsheathe your dagger," he commands, and I do so, hearing the quiet shing-sound it makes. I had sharpened it earlier just for this exhilarating occasion. Daud goes on instructing me, and I listen to him with the most focus I ever have before. "Most people you will come face-to-face in conflict will have longer swords, or even guns. It will be difficult for you to win a proper sword fight with a dagger as short as that." I think to interrupt him, demanding him to give me a saber like his instead, but my mouth stays shut as he keeps on going. I can't ruin this for myself, no matter what. "That's where your generous powers come in. You can transverse in front of someone, cut them, and rapidly transverse away. Try it on me."

My eyes widen. He wants me to cut him? I push my concern away then. Daud's endured several wounds in his lifetime; he even has a scar on his face to prove it. He can handle whatever I give him, and by the confidence in his voice, I can tell he knows that already.

Daud falls into a defensive stance, his knees slightly bent, feet spread apart for balance, his sword out and ready to strike when the time's right. I try to mimic him with my dagger, and then we slowly circle each other, sizing each other up. My gaze scans up and down his body, trying to tell if he'll end up making the first move instead of me. But then I quickly blink across the space between us and swing my dagger toward his shoulder.

A loud cling sounded, and I am forced to step back as my arm tingles from the impact. He'd been so quick, even after I blinked, that he managed to block my blow with his sword. Quickly, I blink away from him, getting back in my stance but embarrassingly looking down at his feet. That was so sloppy! I need to be even quicker than that. This is Daud I'm training with now, not any other whaler who I convinced to instruct me before we were broken apart by the master assassin himself. I take a deep breath of the cool night air to clear my head.

"Look at my eyes, Serra," Daud demands, and my head jerks up at him. "You can train yourself to tell when someone has decided to make a move by looking at their eyes. It could be a quick glance elsewhere, or even a stare telling they are focusing somewhere else in their peripheral vision. Come at me again."