The Half Light

[3.1] The Makings of a Spy

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Aryial always hated lazy afternoon's such as this one, especially since she had stayed awake for the entirety of last night, watching a door. The afternoon made her want to sleep like the dead.

A zing of metal zipped through the air, impaling the ground with a thud. It landed right next to Aryial's head, inflicting the smallest of cuts on her cheek.

"Was your head so deep in the clouds that you couldn't even sense me standing here?" A disapproving voice said.

It was indeed, for Aryial's mind couldn't help but go over what happened last night and early that morning. After waiting all night, Aryial had decided to check on the women and help them, against all of her instincts.

There could be more men there! Her common sense had said. The people would've covered their tracks, they don't want to be caught!

But Aryial hadn't been able to stop herself, she thought that if the women were still alive, perhaps she could help them, return them to their families.

But there was nothing in that room. It was as if no one had been there, or it would've been, if Aryial hadn't spotted the splatter of blood against one of the walls.

She tried to dispel the thoughts, turning around to watch the woman wrench the dagger from the wall.

No other weapon was visible on Evhanna if you didn't count the wickedly sharp cuffs that adorned both of her delicately pointed ears, but Aryial would bet her entire savings that there were concealed blades hidden along the leather vambraces that adorned her teacher's forearms.

She had at least three inches on Aryial, standing proud and firm, cloaked in black from head to toe.

As if the fact that she could snap someone's head before they even knew she was there weren't enough to terrify people, Evhanna sported a cold, calculated look that only an experienced killer could have.

Aryial often wondered what Evhanna's life was like before she became Ivan's assassin and protector, as well as Aryial's teacher.

That's what Evhanna was here for, to teach her. Aryial's blood raced at the challenge.In one precise movement, her foot flung out to sweep Evhanna, Aryial's body dropping to the ground as she placed her hands on the floor to steady her.

Evhanna leapt back, a bark of laughter escaping her lips as she settles herself into a fighting stance.

"Come at me, fledgling," her voice was low but seemed to hold a hint of amusement. Aryial stayed crouched down, eyes flickering over Evhanna, calculating her next move.

The slightest tensing of Evhanna's foot alerted Aryial and she quickly raised her hands to shield her face as dust was kicked towards her direction.

Aryial countered. She swung her leg around, hooking onto Evhanna's still out-stretched leg. The assassin was faster though, thigh tensing as she moved away.

Laughing, Aryial turned to run once again through the clothing lines and away from the buildings. She did not stop until her feet padded against the soft and slightly damp earth.

Aryial closed her eyes for a few heartbeats, savouring the smell of the earth and the warmth, swelling rays of sunshine. Though it was not connected to the other lands, the field still belonged to the High Lord and was used for picnics and garden parties. Or so she was told.

Currently, it was deserted. The soft wind tickled by like feathers, carrying the distant buzz of the market. But the grass wavered and danced without a single figure near-by.