The Alcora Chronicles

Verlana

Verlana

Though I should have been, I wasn't expecting the sight that awaited me in the Target's home. The man lay dead on the floor, an arrow through his eye. The place reeked of rust and flies were already laying their foul eggs in the flesh of the carcass before me.

The sun was still rising outside; I had a few more moments of time. Avoiding the pool of crimson blood that coated the worn floor boards, I moved closer to the Target. I examined the arrow that protruded from his face; even before I removed it from his brain with an unsettling, wet, sucking noise, I knew who had killed him.

The Darkblade assassins had been working to destroy our business for some time. I hadn't thought they would go to such extent as murdering a Target, but they were a band of bloodthirsty demons.

Thinking of how the Grand Master would react to this news made me uneasy. He was fair, but harsh and I knew he expected much from me. I feared I had let him down. However, I needed to return and so that is what I did.

I snuck through Runnerrus, silent and unnoticed. When I slipped in the door of the Freethieves guild, I immediately smelt the rich scent of potatoes and venison. My stomach complained loudly and I decided I would eat after speaking to the Grand Master. Walking quickly up the wooden stairs, I tried to calm my racing heart. This was not the first time in all the years I had been thieving that I had returned home empty handed. However, this was the most valuable item I had failed to steal.

As I lifted my fist to knock on the heavy door to Sinstro's office, I steeled myself for what was sure to be an insulting, demeaning, and to many, frightening confrontation. But this man had raised me from the time I was only twelve years of age; he was like a father to me and I knew he would be angry, most likely demand that I leave and not return until I brought him something of equal value to the Dellian family ring, however, he would never abandon me.

"Enter!" came the strong voice of the Grand Master from beyond the cherry-wood door. Pushing it open, I walked inside to find Sinstro sitting behind his yew desk. "Verlana," he greeted me, "you have returned. With the ring, I trust."

As I approached his desk, I lowered my gaze in shame. "No, Grand Master," I admitted meekly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly and threateningly, "it sounded to me like you just said 'no'."

"I did, Grand Master. The Target was dead when I approached his residence. The Darkblades put an arrow in his eye. The ring was nowhere to be found."

I watched Sinstro's weathered facial expression change from expectant to outraged in a matter of seconds. Wide eyed, I swiftly ducked a vase that the Grand Master had hurled at me. He was a man with violent tendencies; it was a wonder that he hadn't become an assassin rather than a thief. "You incompetent imbecile!" he roared as I straightened. "I sent you, my best thief, to steal me the most valuable ring in the region and you return with nothing? And not only that, but your Target is dead? Verlana, you have never been more useless!"

I remained silent, knowing that he was only angry and he would calm down shortly. Taking his seat again, the Grand Master pinched the bridge of his long nose and sighed heavily. "Verlana, do you know why our guild is often referred to as the Eyes of Runnerrus?"

"Because we're everywhere," I replied. "We see everything."

"Exactly. We see everything. So how the Hell did you not see this?" Giving me no time to answer, Sinstro continued in a quiet voice, barely containing his anger. "Leave, Verlana. Do not step foot in this guild unless you carry with you the Dellian ring, or something of equal worth."

I nodded wordlessly and departed from his office, thanking Sharm the God of luck for the fact that the Grand Master had been in a surprisingly good mood. Making my way merrily back downstairs to the dining hall, I snagged a plate of meat and potatoes and took it out into the training yard to eat.

It was the hot season, so even though the sun was setting, it was still warm. I watched the young boys in the training ring learning how to handle a blade. Knives and daggers were the weapons most commonly used by thieves and these boys were skilled. As I ate and observed them, my mind wandered back to when I was in training to be a thief. I was only twelve when I had been taken in by Sinstro. He had given me a home, a job, and most of all, a family. The other thieves had become like my siblings and I would die before I let any harm come to them.

"So, the perfect Verlana Harrowsmith has finally failed the Grand Master," said Evran, a Highborn elf like me. He was one of my closest friends and loved to tease me.

"I'm far from perfect," I laughed as he took a seat beside me and pinched a potato from my plate.

"You wouldn't think it from the way everyone here talks about you,' he replied. "You're a hero to these people."

I screwed up my nose in disgust. I started thieving because the alternative was death, starvation, to be precise. I had chosen to continue this way of life because I owed it to the Grand Master for taking me in and training me. But it was not heroic. "I'm nothing special, Ev."

"Everyone knows the Runnerrus city guards are some of the best in Alcora, and you have evaded capture for the last seven years!" he exclaimed. "If that does not make you special, nothing will."

I simply smiled wanly and gave him my still half full plate of food. I had lost my appetite. As I wandered off into the night, I thought to myself that the one thing Evran did not understand about me was that I didn't want to be special. I just wanted to survive.