Foxfire (The Blood Oath) old version

Chapter 4: Shadowstealer

. . . Shadowstealer . . .

In Yamatai, there was nothing harder than to tame a god. Zelos had tamed hers and tonight she wore the mask that named her, Shadowstealer. Tonight, she must kill a legend and make a city mourn. Tonight she would break the string that has held the Nine Worlds together.

She had been tasked by her masters to birth chaos through murder and so Zelos wore her robes of destruction.

She made her way to the entrance of a temple.

A large bronze statue of a man riding a fiery chariot stood in utter magnificence. His face was carved with great precision, staring at the sky as if he was ascending. It was the statue of great Izuna the Light bearer, renowned Patron to the School of Illusion who was revered as a deity by many in Yamatai.

There were hundreds of people descending and ascending the white steps at the temple. No one seemed to notice her.

She was clad in a black silk robe. Her face was concealed beneath the brim of her rice farmer's hat. The colour of her outfit camouflaged in the night's darkness to make her look like, Chinook, the slave caste of Yamatai that city folks seemed to trample on without even so much as an apology.

Zelos climbed the stairs, the sound of her feet muffled as they touched each step. Two dark blades were sheathed to crisscross at her back. Her arms were folded across each other and her head tilted downwards to allow the hat to hide her face.

The night was her sanctuary and the moon, a slave to serve at her whim. She went past a group of temple priest arguing over whose turn it was to perform an upcoming bonding ceremony. Even in the bright illumination casted by fires from the dozens of temple torches on the walls, they did not see her.

Finally, she reached the doorway to the next building where her target was sure to be. The guards manning the post were men of dull wits. The first one was half asleep on a chair, holding a wineskin face down as wine wasted away in drops. The other maintained his post by the door, but his helmet covered half his face, without doubt he too was asleep.

She found no need to rob them of their lives.

Zelos opened the door quietly. A young maiden ran into her and the clay pot she carried slipped from her hands. Urged by her sharp reflex, Zelos swung her hands downwards and reached it right as it was about to hit the floor.

"Here," she held it up.

The girl -a temple virgin- snatched the pot away from her and stepped backwards in disgust rather than fear, thinking her one of the temple slaves. She took quick steps to get as far away from Zelos. It was certainly true that people hated her kind. They hated the way they looked, talked, and walked. Society had forced them to be the lowest caste whose job was to be the beggars on the streets, lepers hiding beneath the shade of rocks, labourers only good for hard and dirty jobs.

Zelos continued down a narrow passage way. On each side of the walls, statues were raised in honour of each Patron of a School of Magic. Zelos went past them but then stopped at the last one. It has been broken out of hatred. The statue was a carved image of Vvenom, the patron of Evocation magic, whose blood-sigil she was bonded to. His image was depicted as a dragon and was loathed for creating the magic of Invocation, an antithesis of his magic used to summon the dead and capture souls.

A chill wind kissed her skin and Zelos felt the Dark Lord's presence strong in her. The last building in the temple was a few paces away from her.

There, her target resided in the heart of the temple. He was the most revered figure in the Nine Worlds. A man who has gone by many names, but to most in the world, he was titled a Shade.