Purpose Kills

Chapter Twelve

Des was growing increasingly frustrated with Oliver. He wouldn't stop smirking as they walked down the hall together, those blasted cards that were tucked away in his pocket seemed to laugh at her. He'd beaten her three times, and she had only won once. That was the first time. It was frustrating. Usually the cards smiled upon her, and usually Kensa, the god of games and fortune did as well. She continued to glare at him, and he chuckled and ruffled her hair. She made a face at him, and his laughter vibrated through her bones. She shook her head. He had the height advantage, and she also hated that. Granted, she wasn't the tallest woman out there, but he was a head taller than her. It was rather frustrating. Everything about him was frustrating. So, she looked ahead and crossed her arms, probably looking like a sullen child.

They picked their way through the guild to the dining room, which was large and spacious with about three long oak tables with benches on either side. There was also another long table that was on a platform in the front of the room. She guessed that was where the guild master and elders sat. The ornately carved wooden chairs decorated with jade helped her theory. In the middle of each of the four walls was a green banner along with two others beside it. She guessed the green one was theirs. In the center of the banner there was a snowy white owl seated upon a heart that was a pale green jade color. The owl had its head tilted to one side. They were beautifully woven, she had to admit. "The Jade Heart Guild," Oliver explained. She had simply thought it was just the Jade Guild. So there was little she knew about this place after all. The thought didn't comfort her.

"And the one's on either side?" She asked, nodding her head to the grey banner with a crow on it, which was seated upon a hand, its talons digging into the flesh and rivulets of blood dripped down it. Its beady black eyes seemed to watch her. The one on the other side of the Jade Heart's banner was a phoenix rising from the ashes on a white silken base. Its screeching head was pointed to the sky, and a whirlwind of flames surrounded it.

"The Raven Hand Guild is the one with the crow on it," Oliver put his hands in his pockets as he continued, "they're mostly known as the master thieves. On the other side, the one with the phoenix, is the Phoenix's Flame Guild. They're low in numbers and usually keep to themselves. However, they are some of the best fighters I have ever seen. Legend has it that they fight with flaming swords." He winked at her and she snorted softly, looking around. People were seated at the benches, already digging into plates of food. Her mouth watered. She hadn't had a home cooked meal in ages, and you could hardly call what the village had given her that. Her stomach rumbled in a rather unladylike manner. She poked it, as if to tell it to shut up.

Oliver laughed, and she couldn't help but smile a little bit at it. He grabbed her arm and guided her to a table, seating her next to him. She was beside a tan man with brown hair and hazel eyes about three years her senior. She was rather squashed between the two. She shifted uncomfortably, then looked at her plate, which Oliver was piling high with food. Her stomach rumbled again, and she snatched up the turkey leg he had put on her plate once he finished putting cheese, bread, the turkey leg, of course, some steaming cabbage, mushrooms, and a bit of rabbit. She sunk into the leg with her teeth, practically ripping it apart. The juice flowed into her mouth and dripped a bit down her chin. Her eyes fluttered closed and she barely managed to contain a soft groan. When she finished tearing it down to the bone, she opened her eyes. Most of the table was staring at her. Even Oliver was, but he looked a little more amused than surprised. She slowly set down the bone on her plate and dabbed at her face with the silk cloth she used as a napkin.

"What, never seen a lady eat properly?" She asked, arching an eyebrow with a small smirk. Oliver clapped her on the shoulder, and she contained a wince at the sting. The others at the table slowly grinned and cheered, and she shrugged and picked up a fork, beginning to eat the other things that had been supplied for her.

After her meal, she left Oliver to his own devices, talking to friends and smiling from ear to ear. She wandered around the halls, seeing more rooms that must've been bedchambers. They were shut off, but that was her guess. She kept walking, and ended up at an outcropping of the building. It had a roof over top and a wooden floor, like the rest of the guild. She walked to a railing made of carved stone and leaned over it, looking below. Below was a group of thirty or so, practicing with wooden swords. They twirled and stalked around their partners with a feline grace similar to Oliver's. They stabbed and feinted, summersaulted through the air and rolled. Eventually one would get the tip of their sword to their opponent's throat or any other vital organs, and the match would end. They bowed their heads to each other and began again. They didn't seem to tire, which amazed her.
 
  She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she concealed her surprise, turning her head coolly. An old man had touched her shoulder, a wild mane of grey hair and a neatly groomed beard smiled faintly at her. She didn't return it, just kept staring at him. He leaned on a wooden staff that had an owl carved onto the top, a heart made of jade set into the wood a few inches beneath it.

  "Desarae Caeryx," he addressed her warmly, still smiling. Despite his age, his voice was smooth and didn't hold even the slightest wobble as he continued, "I'm the master of this guild. I believe you and I were going to have a talk together at some point. I apologize for being unable to do it earlier." She had thought he was going to meet her at the earliest.

  She nodded slowly, straightening. His hands still clutched the ornate staff. "I believe that's why I was stolen away in the midst of the night, yes." She answered, her hands behind her back.

  "Come along, then," he chuckled and tapped her ankle with his staff, motioning for her to follow. He still stood tall and straight, but was almost the size of a dwarf. Which meant she had quite the height advantage as she followed him. He led her outside, and into a small wooden gazebo. They crossed a bridge to get over to it, where it sat on some grass with water circling it all around. Fish swam slowly underneath the surface, and flowers lined the stone pathway they took to get inside. He sat down on a wooden bench and gestured for her to sit as well. She took a seat across from him and stared at him levelly.
 
  "Let's begin," he smiled again.