The Haunted: Revelations (Sequel to Rebellion)

Chapter 3

Art by UnlimitedCrazy.
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"While I was working there, I found an extremely valuable artifact."
-Mia, The Haunted, episode 6: Sunken Treasure
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Third person point of view-

He stayed as silent as humanly possible, each breath, each step as light as he could maintain. He remained vigilant and focused, not being able to afford a moment's worth of distraction. He swiftly leap across the shadows, only visible in the gaze of the sun for a split moment before vanishing once more like a phantom into the shadows.
Buildings with stories that stretched upon one another offered the only advantage to get to higher ground, the walls around the village blocking off access to the surrounding trees. Luckily for him, building, tree, or another object, climbing was one of his mastered specialties. Morning sunlight gleamed in the glass of his goggles resting over his eyes, the outer layer glazed over from the mist of his own breath forced upwards from beneath his mask.
With another swift sprint, he went across the field to cover himself behind another wall, knowing this place like the back of his palm. Perhaps it was an unfair advantage but it was something he could not be blamed for. As he glanced into the inside of each building, his eyes were only met with desolation, not a soul nor a single piece of furniture in sight.
She nearly mirrored him in elegance, slim body shrouded in the shade. She dashed across the ground, kicking up dirt with steps heavier than his own despite her shrunken size in comparison to him.
Her heart raced with anxiety, eyes shooting around in search for her opponent, and more importantly, their goal destination; their contraband. She knew that it could be anywhere in any of the buildings around her, meaning that her awareness had to remain spiked. Her olive green eyes looked down, resting upon a trail of footsteps leading to the east of the village, vanishing a few feet away but still offering a picture of the whereabouts of her opponent.

"Not as stealthy as you think, hmm?"

She snickered, proceeding to bolt across the ground, her feet carrying her as fast as she could. Her necklace bounced against her chest, so close to swatting her in the face but she attempted to ignore it. Each gasp was forced, sweat dripping onto her tongue and into her eyes. At least the chilly winter air offered some relief from the heat coiled around her body draped in black clothing.
Upon turning a corner, her heels dug into the soil to stop herself in her tracks. As her eyes cast upwards, her gaze settled upon the man standing on the slanted rooftop of a building in front of the girl, his back facing her. She attempted to sneak past him undetected, but without a second's notice, he spun around with an arrow pulled back in his bow and fired.
Without screaming, she swiftly avoided the projectile that would have hit her upper leg with ease, stepping to the side to let it bounce against the wall and fall hard onto the soil. It rolled before reaching a halt; a long stick with feathers in the end, soft, thick rubber replacing what was supposed to be sharp obsidian as the arrowhead. Even with the replacement, it was sure to leave a painful bruise.
It was only a warning shot. He easily would have had the perfect strike rather she had moved or not. She knew that he purposefully did not account her stepping to the side to avoid the strike.
Drawing her own weapon, the girl looked back up only to find that he was out of sight, yet she could head the familiar sound of breaking rooftop tile, proceeded with brief footsteps, then by silence. She huffed, then ran to the other side of the building, passing lifesize wooden cutouts of people on her way, all filled with punctures and scattered slash marks.

"Where's he at now?"

Upon the ground laid scattered roof tiles and a puff of slow settling dust, some tile split in half as if a blade had sliced through them. That was usually the way he got off of buildings, digging a blade into the roof to anchor himself down with ease and swiftness, as well as with more stealth than simply slamming onto the ground. Based on the footprints left behind, he was directly inside of the house to her left.
Acting fast but with caution, she stepped over to the door, reaching twisting the knob, letting it creep open with an eerie squeak that sounded throughout the house. Her heart raced, eyes darting around only to find the room suspiciously abandoned. He must have been upstairs.
She quietly ascended up the steps, each tiptoe bringing a new wave of anxious adrenaline as the floorboards threatened to squeak beneath her lightweight. With a weapon drawn, a wooden dagger, she swiftly turned the corner to face her opponent head on, only to freeze.
He stood there there, twirling a red flag between his fingers that he had ripped from the slim pole in the center of the room. The spy looked up, pulling up his goggles to uncover his bright forest green eyes shimmering with delight. A smile came to his face as his other hand pulled down his black mask, tucking it beneath his knitted black and green striped scarf. His teeth were almost unbelievably pearly, shining in his bright grin. The fluffy, shaggy chestnut hair unkempt but still obviously brushed, his hairline evenly parted down the center of his scalp, yet strands still managed to go over his face, currently pink from the cold. Upon his chin was a small goatee.
Xavier adjusted his black and green striped scarf, his smile widening once more and eyes twinkling in the light, a near insane gleam as they almost always gave off thanks to his abnormally slim pupils. He wore black pants with leg armor from his knees to his toes, the armor going over his black boots with iron toes and heels. His black shirt poked out from beneath his waist belt, long sleeves of grey covering his arms whereas his black tunic had short sleeves. He had on iron shoulder pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, and iron on the back of his gloves and fingers. His iron chestplate that covered his upper torso bore no markings unlike most imperial officials.