Webs of Deceit.

The barroom of the brothel was ripe with the scent of tobacco smoke, alcohol, vomit, and the stink of recent sex. The man's nostrils flared as they were assaulted with the myriad of fragrances. Laughter and supposedly what passed for music in the place consumed his sense of hearing as he made his way to the bar, a gloved hand rising to stroke the straw colored hairs of his shortly cropped goatee. As he approached, the barkeep eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and amusement, for the stranger was adorned in garments that were all a deep shade of red. From his wide brimmed hat that was plumed with a large feather, down to his dark reddish brown leather boot. His tunic, his cape, and his trousers too were red. Only the tabard he wore was different.The tabard! Immediately the barkeeps expression changed from amusement to apprehension, even bordering on fear, once he saw the symbol on the man's tabard. The tabard was black, in contrast to his garb, but the symbol, an eye shedding a single tear, a tear of blood some said, and surrounded by a circle of arcane runes, was the symbol of the Red Mages of Brevlan. A ruthless guild of mages that acted as, the muscle, thugs, and guards of the Laird of Brevlan. They were widely respected and even more widely feared, their reputation spread not only across the land the Laird ruled over, but even into a few of the adjacent Lairds territories. If Brevlan was the 'throne' of corruption in the land and its Laird the 'king' of corruption, then the Red Mages were certainly the crown atop his head. The man offered only an arrogant smile in response to the barkeeps fear, which elicited a bout of stammering before he was able to speak properly.

"C-can I help you sir? I'll get you anything you’d like. Free of charge!"

"I certainly hope you can help me, I'd like a room and company. The best one of your girls."

"Yes sir! I'll have Hanalei meet you in the last room on the left upstairs! It's our biggest room and Hana is our most expensive girl."

The man let loose a long, long sigh then. Such incompetence. He thought before addressing the man once more, a hint of impatience creeping into his calm, arrogant tone.

"I do not recall asking for your most expensive girl Barkeep, I asked for your best! girl. However, I am impatient, so let us hope that this Hanalei, is indeed your best, for I do not wish to have to come back down and make you correct a mistake, that would not bode well for you." He turned on his heel then, purposely making his cape sweep across the bar, knocking over more than one tankard, and yet, not one word of complaint was uttered.

He met Hanalei standing in front of the room specified. She was tall and certainly well endowed, tan skinned and exotic in appearance she flashed him a grin as she batted her almond shaped eyes at him, hinting at her heritage, he didn't really care where she was from, but returned the grin sincerely. He bowed low, sweeping his hat low to the ground as he introduced himself.

"My name is Ansel Giordean, Men call me 'sir', you may call me Ansel if you wish." He flashed an ivory grin as he straightened and replaced his hat atop his head.

Hanalei returned the smile before speaking, her voice carrying just a hint of an accent.

"My name is Hanalei, men call me.......often. You may call me whatever you wish, I am yours from the night."

Ansel's grin only widened at her display of wit, he certainly did hope she was as good as the barkeep said; he would hate to be disappointed after her well executed wordplay.

Unfortunately, he never got to find out, for before they were even halfway finished with their activity, a scream pierced through the dull thrum of noise present in the tavern. And it had come from the room directly across from theirs.

"Oh dear." Said Ansel, his face utterly devoid of emotion as he sat up and began to dress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jiin nearly leapt out of his seat at the sound of the scream. He had followed the Red Mage, due to the simple fact that he didn’t trust a single one of them. He stood and smoothed the front of his sleeveless jacket. The right side of the jacket was tucked under the left, and fastened by the belt tied about his waist. His pants were made of light cotton and stopped just above his ankles. All of his attire was white, and yet, seemed unusually clean compared to the environment around him. His hands, wrists, and ankles were wrapped in thin strips of white cotton cloth and on his feet he wore simple black shoes that only covered the sides of his feet and came up just past his toes, leaving the top of his wrapped feet exposed. He carried no weapon, but his stride as he ran up the stairs two at a time, was one of confidence and tranquility. His dark hair was pulled back into a small tail, and swayed in rhythm with his steps. He came to the room to find the Red Mage standing in the doorway. His dark almond shaped eyes narrowed at the man.

“What did you do dog!?”

The man was dressed much like than any of the Red Mages of Brevlan if only a little more flamboyantly, but his attitude, was perhaps what set him apart, if only slightly, than the rest. He was, or at least appeared to be, capable of humor.

The look in his blue eyes as he turned was one of amusement mixed with bewilderment, not only at the man’s strange dress, but his exotic appearance, he certainly wasn’t from Brevlan, and Ansel doubted he was even from inside the kingdom. His tone only revealed his amusement.

“Why, I did nothing, and who are you to question a Red Mage?” Ansel noted that while this man was clearly of foreign origin, he commanded the language of the kingdom quite fluently.

Jiin turned his back on the man, to reveal the sigil that was sewn into the back. It looked at first like the symbol of the Kingsguard, a full moon being cast in shadow by the sun behind it. But then Ansel saw it, the white silhouette of a howling wolf inside the dark circle of the moon. The symbol of the Wolves of Vvaryn. The elite section of the Kingsguard, sent across the kingdom to enforce his will, or to reestablish order in a city plagued by darkness. Ansel’s eyes widened, if only briefly. They’ve arrived sooner than I anticipated. I’ve got to inform Leader.

“My my, it’s one of the King’s wolves, coming to nip at the Laird’s heels I suppose? You’ll find you have little political power here, not to mention political favor. Especially alone, it’s rare for you wolves to work alone.”

Jiin’s eyes narrowed further, and he took a step toward the room. “Better a lone wolf than a starving dog doing all he can in the hope of getting some small scrap of power from the disease ridden table that the Laird sits at.”

Ansel only chuckled.

“Careful boy, you’ll find that I’ve a very long leash.”

Jiin didn’t even look at him as he replied and pushed past the man.

“You’ll find I don’t have one at all.”

“Indeed, well, it seems the wolf pup has the situation in hand, I’ll leave you to question the girls, I’ve got to go report the death of a member of the Thieves guild. Such a tragic occurrence, and at a Brothel no less. Tsk.” He laughed as he descended the stairs, his boisterous voice echoing long after he reached the bottom.

The sight that greeted Jiin’s eyes wasn’t pretty by any means. On the floor lay a man, his face an unrecognizable mess of blood, flesh, and bone. Whatever had hit him did so with great force. In his hand he held a knife, tainted with a small blotch of blood. He had managed to attack his murderer before he died, but that fact did little to aid Jiin in figuring out who was responsible. He noticed the girl shaking in the corner then. She was young, younger than even Jiin who had just passed his twenty second name day, and yet she was working in such a place as this, Jiin found he pitied her.

“Did you see it happen?” Shaking violently, and trying to choke back her sobs, the girl managed to shake her head from side to side, inferring that she hadn’t.

“Did you just find him like this?” She managed a weak nod before failing to choke back a sob.

“What were you doing up here?”

It took her several moments to speak, and when she did, she struggled to form the words.

“I-I was s-s-supposed to cl-clean the room….I h-ad no I d-d-dea that there was anyone in here.”

“Very well, you may go, rest somewhere, try to forget the events of this night.” Jiin knew she would be of little help, and turned his mind back to what had been bugging him since he entered. The Red Mage had said girls and yet Jiin found only one in the room. He scrutinized the room once more, and again a third time, before he finally saw it. A shadow, a silhouette to be precise, of someone outside the window, on the side of the building, as if hanging onto the frame. It was only an arm, or perhaps only a sleeve, but more importantly, whomever it was, had been in the room, or at least, on their way in, for the window was wide open, allowing the cold night breeze to infiltrate the small room. He silently made his way over to the window, stepping with the ball of his foot down to his heel, instead of the normal heel to toe gait. He was quieter than a whisper, and yet, somehow, the girl had heard him, and it was indeed a girl Jiin noted, as he saw her darting down the dark streets below. She had dropped nearly thirty feet seemingly unharmed! Such a feat wasn’t common, Jiin knew that much.

“Hey! Halt by order of the Kingsguard!” He yelled as he scrambled over the window frame.

He cursed as he dropped down to follow, rolling forward to absorb the shock of the fall, and rising in a run, sprinting after the fleeing form down the shadowed streets.

Bitterly cold was that night in Brevlan, winter’s icy grip only just beginning to gain its chokehold on the god forsaken city. Foul smelling substances, most of which seemed to be plastered to the very walls and streets, now began to freeze, making the improbable task of cleaning impossible. For the most fortunate, a fire brightened the dangerous nights and warmed their chilled flesh, for those who fortune favored less, the cold night air claimed many of their malnourished bodies. They were recycled, however, and not a shred of cloth or a scrap of wood went to waste; the city’s poor saved nothing for the dead or dignity, prudence overruled all.

Hunched silently between two towering spires of inky black fireplace smoke, her feet perched expertly upon the slate roof-tiles, a young woman peered cautiously into the streets below. Some thirty feet beneath her she watched in silence as an old man spent his last living moments, the rattle of his wheezing growing fainter and fainter as the life slipped from his body. A minute had not passed before the slowly cooling body was pounced upon by needy beggars and homeless, all of whom could use the salvaged goods for either warmth or barter. The moonlight caught her eyes, revealing a momentary flare of disgust before both the emotion and the figure had vanished.

Stealing across the rooftops, the young woman leapt across the black chasms separating the towering houses, no safety measures separating her from taking a plunge into the darkness below, and she used Brevlan’s rooftops as her own streets. Fae needed no map, no rope, and certainly no light, her silvery grey eyes accustomed to the moon’s dim light. Movement was the only thing that kept her from truly freezing, and when at last she had arrived at her destination, she was vaguely loathe to give up the freedom of action. Work, however, must be done.

The Moonlight Lounge was a beacon of candle light and poor music, the scent of liquor and sex. It was a place of empty hearts and hidden intrigues, it was also the meeting spot of a thief’s target, Ansel Giordean. Fae had been contacted recently with the job, and upon studying the contract and the contractor, had finally accepted the mark, as dangerous as it could turn out to be. It was a relatively simple job, steal the symbolic black tabard he wore; it was a message, not an actual item of value. However when dealing with the arcane, a simple mark could turn quickly into a sticky mess.

Nearing the brothel’s roof, Fae paused to gauge the distance; it was near enough for a jump. A quick tug at the skin tight ‘sneak-suit’ she wore, a combination of fine fabrics whose sole purpose was of silence, precluded the moment she took a flying leap. Collision was instantaneous, but she rolled, softening the impact and lessening the sound to less than a muffled thump. Then, with practice skill, she approached the edge, a metal gutter, and began lowering herself down. Precariously she dangled by her fingertips, wordlessly searching brick walls for any sign of purchase. When none was forthcoming, though she knew in truth that a small window ledge lay about two feet below her, Fae let go.

Momentarily she plummeted before her toes and fingertips caught hold, catching the sill without a sound. Her own reflection, an image of black cloth, stared wildly back at her while she freed one hand to open the window. The lock was rudimentary at best, easily unlatched with a thin dagger, and proved to be a hindrance for only a fraction of a second. She did not, however, immediately pry open the cloudy glass but instead crouched and listened, thankful that a set of gaudy curtains was between her and the room. At first she heard nothing, then a faint clicking caught her ear.

Pressing her ear gently against the glass, she caught what she was hoping to hear above the screeching music being played below.

“…Ansel Giordean …….call me Ansel… wish."

Suppressing a snort of indignation, Fae felt her eyes roll. The mage’s skill was renown, his attitude with the ladies was legend. Calling him a lady-charmer was an understatement; he was a womanizer in practically every sense of the word.

“Fool...” Fae grumbled quietly to herself, shifting her hands to shake the numbness from her fingers. She stopped mid-motion, however, when something else caught her attention, the smell of bloodshed seeping through the window.

Fae opened the window and was immediately assaulted by the stench of death and blood, a palpable taste of violence permeating throughout the room. Fear caused her hand to shake as she slowly, inch by inch, moved to part the curtain. The colorful red fabric was velvety to the touch, thick, and rather heavy, all of which minimized the motion of the young woman’s hand. Sickly orange light pierced the night’s darkness as the cloth was moved a fraction of an inch, just enough to catch sight of the spreading pool of crimson blood.

Then she saw the body.

Where once had been a face, now a crater of fleshy gore stared vividly out from atop a crumpled body, blood pooling quickly across the velvet carpets. Despite the damage, Fae recognized the body. She could not drag her eyes from the sight, rivulets of crimson spreading out like tendrils, emanating from the gushing mass of skin, muscle, and broken bone. The oozing sac of blood was known as Nikoli, an average thief whose skill lied in pick pocketing, not roof-walking. Fae knew him by his rowdy renditions of God Save the King on hot summer nights, filled with ale and life, now he simply lay cooling in a pool of his own blood.

So absorbed in her own thoughts, Fae did not notice the door open, a small form entering the room with a bucket in hand. The ear shattering scream that followed, however, broke her dazed concentration, causing the thief to nearly fall off her precarious ledge. Then a moment of indecision struck like thunder, to wait and see if an opportunity presented itself to steal the tabard, or to flee. The arrival of a second person decided for her.

With one last glance at the body, Fae retreated from behind the curtains and began her slow descent, her arms clinging to the window’s upper-lip as she lowered her petite form. The contract would have to wait for another night, another opportunity. She was dangling by her arms, toes searching for the next crevice in the brick, when she heard the soft patter of footsteps approaching the window.

Her heart leapt into her mouth and thundered deafeningly in her ears, nearly shutting down conscious thought. The situation was not unfamiliar however, and Fae knew how to flee; she simply let go of her hold. The plummet was a good solid thirty feet to the icy cold cobblestones below, but the landing was absorbed in muscled legs and an acrobatic roll which returned her to her feet. She was running down the alleyway before her pursuer had even left the building, soft leather shoes now slapping wildly against stone and her black scarf trailing faintly behind her.

“Hey! Halt by order of the Kingsguard!” suddenly pierced the red haze of instinct of Fae’s mind, but was eventually ignored.

Fear and skill practically gave her wings as she flew down the dark streets of Brevlan, leaping clear of garbage and debris. Crouched low as she sprinted, Fae zigzagged through the streets, turning left, right, left, left, right in random order. Her mind clouded out all secondary information, focusing solely on escape till she had turned a corner to a dead end, a towering stone wall separating a district of housing.

Fae did not break pace as she approached, one last burst of speed shooting through her system as she neared the wall. Her momentum was great enough that she ran vertically along the wall just long enough to gain a hold on the rough stone. She threw herself across to the adjacent house, barely catching a window’s ledge with one hand before she scrambled upward. Spider-like she shot up, leaping back to the stone wall once the top presented itself.

Her breath coming in short gasps, Fae stopped and peered down at the Kingsguard. She was relatively safe on her perch; he could not reach her before she simply dropped off the other side and disappeared into the night. Thus with a measure of calm she slowed her breathing and eyed the pursuer, knowing full well that if she didn’t answer his questions now, he would surely find her later. In this situation she had a measure of safety and control.

“I have halted, guard. Now what do you want?” she shouted roughly down at the figure in white, taking comfort in the fact that her features were concealed behind black fabric.

Jiin had followed the woman clad in black through the dark streets, and it was only because of his close proximity to his unintentional guide that he did not get lost in the unfamiliar streets. The dark shadows devouring anything that lay within. His brown eyes darted left and right as he weaved through the labyrinth that was Brevlan, even running on walls at angle so as not to lose momentum in his chase. Left, right, up, and over, he went around buildings, over fences, through homes, over a house even, and then, it ended. With the woman on a high stone wall, which Jiin was sure he could scale easily, the problem was, as capable as he was, in the short amount of time it took him to reach the top, she would likely have dropped off the other side and into the night.

Michelle Vardden wrote:“I have halted, guard. Now what do you want?” she shouted roughly down at the figure in white, taking comfort in the fact that her features were concealed behind black fabric.

Jiin looked up at the woman, nearly covered completely in black fabrics, he paused a moment, trying to think of what to make of her. The outfit she wore was strikingly familiar to those that were worn by those that practiced the arts of subtlety in his homeland. He shook it away before replying. Despite the long run, his breathing was rhythmic, if a bit quickened, but he was far from winded, when he spoke he did not shout, his voice was steady, and even, yet held enough power to carry up to the ears of the woman on the wall.

"You run across the city and then halt to answer my questions? When you could have simply stayed on the ledge and answered them then? Was it your aim to lose me Thief?" He waved a hand, marking his questions as rhetorical for the time being.

"If what the Red Dog said was true, then the body is that of a member of the Thieves guild, I trust that a thief would not be a practitioner of murder at all, let alone one of her own flock? Moreover why run at all? The kingsguard has more to worry about in this city than thieves." He had not meant to ask that last part, but the fact that she had run from the kingsguard at all bothered him, perhaps he just simply wasn't used to such behavior, being raised in a very structured, very disciplined society.

The adrenaline that had pumped through Fae’s system so profoundly was not starting to slowly fade, eliminating the frightened red haze that clouded her brain. With dilated pupils, she stared calmly down at the figure clad in white, the kingsguard who had hunted her so thoroughly through the dark streets of Brevlan. Vaguely she was impressed by the fact that he had managed to keep up with her for so long, but that thought only tickled the back of her mind.

"If what the Red Dog said was true, then the body is that of a member of the Thieves guild, I trust that a thief would not be a practitioner of murder at all, let alone one of her own flock? Moreover why run at all? The kingsguard has more to worry about in this city than thieves."

Fae, listening with attentive ears, scoffed. “It is in the nature of one such as I to run, guard. It is the point of our existence; I run, you give chase.”

Momentarily her eyes clouded over, swamped by some hidden memory and unforgiving recollection. The moment, however, passed quickly. She waved her hand in dismissal. “But listen to me. Philosophy is better left to scholars and philosophers, not thieves.”

“And you are correct; thieves do not kill other thieves… at least those who value their lives,” Fae said at last, pausing only to stop and listen. Momentarily she thought she heard… well she wasn’t entirely sure what she heard. The hair on the back of her neck, however, prickled.

Continuing, the young woman could feel her own rage start to bubble to the surface. “If one murdered a comrade in cold blood, he would find the wrath of the entire guild descending upon him. The heavens themselves could not hide him from retribution. It is one of our most sacred tenants, to break it is beyond dishonorable.”

“Whoever killed Nikoli will rue the day he was born,” she said murmured softly to herself, an icy cold fury sliding its way through her mind.

With an effort, she relaxed the clenched muscled of her fists and jaw, instead storing the anger for another place at another time. Rage subsiding, Fae’s mind was slowly swarmed with vivid images of Nikoli’s broken body; the nightmares, she knew, would come later. Nevertheless, the matter would need to wait.

Staring down at kingsguard then, the young thief felt a hawkish smile creep into the corners of her mouth; she may be at the momentary mercy of the kingsguard, but he would soon be at the mercy of Brevlan’s maze-like streets. “Careful you may wish to be, guard, in streets such as this. Thieves are not all you will find prowling the alleys at night… ”

She grinned. “And I assure you, most of them do not appreciate the presence of a kingsguard.”

Jiin narrowed his dark brown eyes at the woman as he listened. Her words, nay, not her words, this place..it had to be this place, was making him nervous, he felt the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end, at it wasn't due to the nights icy air.

“It is in the nature of one such as I to run, guard. It is the point of our existence; I run, you give chase.”

"Wrong, You Run, I Catch."

Jiin laughed aloud when she mentioned that no thief would dare think of murdering another of the guild. "So...Forgive me for twisting the old phrase, but I suppose that in a city corrupt as this, it would only seem fitting to have honor among thieves eh?" He laughed still, the irony of the situation amused him, not because it was a bad thing, but just the simple fact that the only honor to be found in the city of Brevlan was held not by the guards, but by the shadows in the night. He looked back up to the woman as she delivered her warning, all the while with the smile of a predator on her face.

"Only most? So there are some here that would welcome the sight of one such as I? Well that's a comforting thought, and I am flattered by your concern." Though he jested, he would indeed heed her warning, this place was far from friendly, and farther past dangerous. Any figure holding power here that wasn't involved in the corrupt schemes, soon found himself involved in one way or another, or dead. He turned his attention back to her own ramblings, about her murdered comrade. He had an idea about what might have killed her friend, and thought now was the time to tease her with that hint.

"Not very many things can cause that kind of damage to someone, it would take a blunt object with tremendous force behind it to do that." His tone hinted that he was not revealing all of his thoughts, it was all intentional, he wanted her to push him for information, all he was really trying to do, was gain some sort of advantage in the situation. He hoped it worked.

The hawkish smirk that had first appeared on Fae’s face quickly grew into a mischievous grin, her eyes twinkling dangerously in the midnight moonlight. Despite the evening’s beginning, the thief found herself genuinely amused by the man dressed in white, an unexpected change in her normal routine with the law. The chilled night air was even all but forgotten in wake of the newest of unexpectancies the young woman had encountered; meeting a kingsguard on civil terms was the last thing she had expected when she had walked out of the King’s Crown Tavern that afternoon.

"Wrong, you run, I catch."

Fae laughed, a musical sound that seemed, despite the circumstances, light and full of mirth. “Do not fool yourself, guard. The only way you will ever catch me is if I let you.”

A peculiar thought crossed her mind, unthinkable for a criminal such as she, but Fae ignored the internal warning and peered over the wall edge. The stone towered over the streets below, roughly four stories tall, which seemed a daunting distance away, but Fae only judged the distance with a critical eye; she then jumped, landing on her feet, uninjured and unharmed. With the proximity in relation to the guard having grown much closer, Fae noticed his dark brown eyes and youthful face for the first time, her eyes no longer glued to the kingsguard symbol on his peculiar outfit.

"Not very many things can cause that kind of damage to someone, it would take a blunt object with tremendous force behind it to do that."

Playing a dangerous game, Fae spoke carefully to the man standing before her, “Come, guard. It is not safe to be out on the streets at night, for both of us. You have questions, as do I. Let us go somewhere were we can talk freely and be a bit more comfortable.”

Fae then struck off at a brisk but calm pace, her feet silent against the cold cobblestones. The city streets lay in darkness, laden with a sense of danger that seemed to lurk in the growing shadows. As if in response to the brutality of that night, dark storm clouds began to gather, lined in eerie silver as they swallowed the moonlight.

Brevlan moved and breathed as one, a single creature born of pain, death, and struggle. The Beast’s head lay at the Laird’s Manor, sprawling for miles and bristling with teeth of the Red Mages. The blackened heart beat its rhythmic patterns by that hands and feet of the Guilds, ventricles of different professions all pumping together to provide the inky black lifeblood. Supporting the Beast were the peasants and workers, the poor that served as legs to mobilize and support the giant creature. Citizens of the dark city fell into those three categories: the head, the heart, or the unfortunate limbs.

Doggedly stalking through the streets, Fae watched as the scenery around her began to change as she entered the heart of Brevlan. Lights blazed in massive Guild Halls, and though more brightly lit than the residential areas, they were far more deadly. Guilds were fiercely protective and often horribly brutal; Guild Wars were not an uncommon occurrence. Her steps were careful, measured, and above all, quiet. She passed relatively unharmed past the outer guilds, their towering masses of timber and thatch little threat, but slowed her pace as she reached the inner district. Silver eyes darting to and fro, searching the shadows for any sign of trouble, the young thief motioned for Jiin to follow, though she pressed her finger to her lips, indicating silence.

Like a hare bolting from beneath the eye of a hawk, Fae opened all her senses to danger as she stepped from the cover of darkness and into the brightly lit streets. She was crossing dangerously close to the Hassas Anubi territory, a particularly brutal Guild known for its willingness to do just about anything. Renown for dealings in spice, making slaves of those who could not pay, abducting children for the slave market in the south, and killing practically anything that moved, the Anubi were greedy and dangerous. Several years back Fae had been contracted to steal from the Anubi; it was a contract that required either gullibility or stupidity, neither of which she possessed. However, due to political pressure and an ongoing competition between another thief, Fae had been forced into accepting the contract. She had succeeded, only to find the wrath of the entire guild descending upon her.

Years later, the threat of assassination had not lessened; the Anubi were never quick to forget a grudge. Fae’s fingers silently clutched at the throwing blades hidden up her sleeves as she passed by their Guild Hall, her heartbeat sounding something akin to automatic gunfire.

“Well, well… Look who’s come out to play. The little mouse has finally decided to brave the lions den again, I see…” a cool voice said from the shadows.

Fae felt her arm twitch involuntarily, but she otherwise managed to smother the flare of white hot fright. She did not slow her pace, but instead motioned for Jiin to continue. Ahead shone the blazing lights of the King’s Crown Tavern, a massive Inn that served as the Thieves Guild’s assembly hall, illuminating the night with candlelight and laughter. The building itself was as old as the city itself, an ancient tribute to the days of old when Brevlan was less a beast and more a thriving city.

“The King’s Crown, I’ll meet you there,” she murmured to Jiin before turning away from the kingsguard and back towards the speaking shadows.

The shadows revealed nothing, only the soft sound of shallow breathing and the scent of liquor seemed to pierce the veil of darkness. Fae’s initial panic had subsided, replaced by irritation and anger; she knew the owner of the voice, had known him for years. Charles Deneger was a slick charmer, former thief, and member of the Hassas Anubi. He was skilled, handsome, and incredibly ruthless.

Eyes flashing dangerously, Fae replied tartly, “Only if you will be so willing to part with your valuables as last time, Charles.”

“Ah, how the days have seemed long in your absence,” the shadows seemed to purr. “Dearest, how ever have you resisted me all these years?”

“No matter how much you wish it, Charles, you do not ooze charm. Now, if you will excuse me,” she threatened to walk away, but before she had taken a step, a hand grasped her arm.

There was moment of struggle, a flash of silvery metal as blades were bared, and by the time the scuffle had ended, both combatants were dead-locked. Fae had managed to press a thin dagger to the man’s throat, Charles had a blade pressed to her upper-ribs, threatening to pierce her heart. Cold green eyes, set beneath a dark brow, stared coolly into burning silver orbs. A silent understanding passed between the two, a mutual agreement, and they withdrew; Fae trotted off towards the King’s Crown, and the mysterious Charles once again disappeared into the shadows.

The young woman did not notice as she burst through the tavern's double doors the emerald gaze that was locked on her form, burning with an unnamed desire... hunger.

Jiin had watched the exchange, the thieves of Brevlan weren't the only ones who were comfortable in the shadows. He had almost stepped in when steel had been drawn, but something held him back. He didn't even really know why he was going to step in, he held no attachments to either party, perhaps it was because the woman had shown him some small measure of respect, but something had held him back. Perhaps it was the feeling that the encounter was more than chance, that it was personal. He couldn't know for sure. So after he felt confident that no blood would be shed, he slipped away quietly heading for the tavern she had pointed out. He stood there, hands in his pockets, back against the building, until she arrived. She was distracted, that was for sure. Her eyes were somewhere far far away, reliving memories of the past. As Jiin pushed off the wall and turned to follow her in, he thought he saw something, a flash of green? Perhaps he was simply jumpy.

He tried to keep calm as Fae burst into the tavern, which immediately brought all eyes to the pair. Those eyes would've likely just shifted back to their previous position had it been just her, in fact the noise in the tavern droned on until the eyes saw the Kingsguard symbol on the back of Jiin's jacket. Then, all went quiet. Fae seemed undisturbed by it, for she kept on stomping, Jiin followed, doing all he could to stay relaxed, his fighter's instinct was screaming, no doubt if he showed any sign of a threat he would be jumped by nearly everyone there, and due to the undoubtedly high probability that most were carrying steel, he would barely resemble a pin cushion by the time they finished. That haunting possibility is primarily what kept Jiin's eyes locked onto a stray hair that lay resting on Fae's shoulder. Though his eyes did drift slightly, noting the fact that she didn't bear just the smile of a predator, but also the gait, and by her eyes, the look, not to mention the body. He was so intent on his 'analysis' that he damn near ran right into her as she stopped suddenly.

He cleared his throat as he directed his gaze away. "I sure hope these are all friends of yours. For I'd hate to die here. Though, I dare say it would be particularly unwise to kill a member of the kingsguard here. Especially since I'm not the only one that has been sent to this city." His tone was jovial, and what little nervousness it carried was hidden beneath his smile.

Golden light spilled out into the night as Fae burst through the massive oak doors. She had marched up the steps with her head low, her mind in such turmoil that she had forgotten the presence of Jiin. The overwhelming smell of beef stew and apple pie assaulted her senses, overpowering the subtle scent of wood smoke and liquor, but generally went unnoticed. Above the roar of celebration and music, which seemed to have faded very rapidly, the young woman was vaguely aware of someone speaking to her. She looked up and realized with a shock that she was still carrying the kingsguard in tow.

"I sure hope these are all friends of yours. For I'd hate to die here. Though, I dare say it would be particularly unwise to kill a member of the kingsguard here. Especially since I'm not the only one that has been sent to this city."

“Huh?” the young thief stumbled, her mind finding it difficult to process the words just said.

She was saved, however, when she felt hot cider pressed into her gloved hands by the one person who had authority to break the tense silence.

“Well look who’s finally back, and she brought a friend no less!” a bear of a woman exclaimed, a grin plastered across her face. Momentarily her eyes flicked to the symbol on Jiin’s apparel, but that did not deter the woman.

A little more loudly than perhaps was normally necessary, the woman said seriously, “Come, come. I’ll not have it said that the King’s Crown refused to serve anyone.”

Annelyn McMillan was a tall, broad expanse of a woman with big bones and hips, a bright smile, and rosy cheeks that had not dulled with age. She wore a simple dress covered by a clean apron, often powdered lightly by flour from that morning’s fresh bread. It was regularly joked that the rolling pin found in her hands was deadly; it was not fiction. For years Annelyn had owned and protected the King’s Crown, acting as a mother figure to the thieves she housed. The inn was open to the public, anyone who needed lodgings found a warm welcome, but any stupid enough to cause trouble or start a fight found themselves tossed into the streets with more than a few broken bones.

Standing in front of Fae, her hands on her hips, Annelyn’s eyes flicked from Jiin to Fae, concern growing as she noticed the young thief’s state. She recognized the daze the girl was in, had seen it before in fact, and knew trouble was going to follow soon after in the form of a young man.

The frightened look of concern went unnoticed; instead Fae simply mouthed the words, “Where is he?”

A thick arm, well muscled from years of kneading bread, shot up towards the stairs, pointing directions before it flashed 3, 1, 2, 4, for floor and room number. Fae turned to Jiin and smiled blankly at him, her eyes unfocused.

“Follow Mum, she will provide whatever you need. I…I will be back.”

She was attracting stares now, Fae could feel it. She had forgotten that she still wore her sneak-suit, the skin tight cloth also known as aarden. It was protocol to change from the black suit and scarf before returning to the King’s Crown, Fae had completely forgotten. Numbly she climbed the flights of stairs directed, walking in a daze till she found Room 124. One long-fingered hand rapped softly on the oak door, followed by silent consent of hinges as the door was opened from within.

Casually lounging in an overstuffed chair, soft blue eyes, set beneath a brow of grey, looked up from a sprawling map of Brevlan. The Headmaster stood on Fae’s arrival, the initial smile replaced by knowing empathy. He was an average looking man; no one ever suspected it was he that headed the Thieves Guild, a massively sprawling empire whose reach extended beyond Brevlan. The unassuming man almost single-handedly held the allegiance of more than half the guilds and intimidated or blackmailed the rest.

For a second time that night, Fae felt a drink pressed into the palms of her hands. She caught the sharp scent of whiskey, and before she could change her mind, greedily slammed it. As if it were tying to claw its way out from her throat, she could feel the alcohol burn its way down. She coughed once, but soon the shocked daze surrounding her mind began to subside.

“When did you meet him?” came the gentle query from her headmaster, followed by a comforting hand on her shoulder. He did not even need to ask; he had seen the after effects of Fae’s encounters with the young man known as Charles.

Fae’s eyes involuntarily shot in the direction of the Anubi Guild, and the headmaster nodded knowingly.

“I…I thought you said he had left,” she breathed, pain visible in her eyes.

He shook his head. “He had, and I thought he was smart enough to not come back. Apparently, he and I will have to have another chat…”

More amber liquid sloshed into the empty glass she was holding, but this time she drank in measured sips. The strong alcohol dulled the pain in her mind and heart, hiding aches that she had tried to forget. It was not strong enough, thankfully, to dull all her senses, just enough to take the sting away. Two more shots found their way into Fae’s stomach before the duo decided she had enough.

“Now, what happened tonight?”

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Nikoli is dead… I found him beaten to death in the Moonlight Lounge.”

“You had better explain…”

Fae soon found herself doing just that, relaying the events of that nigh with as much detail as she could muster.
___________________________________--

“Like a moth to a flame…” Annelyn murmured after the fading figure in black, the tanned face usually found in a smile painted with apprehension. The presence of Jiin, however, knocked the Innkeeper from her musings, and with a shake of her head, she turned on the young man.

“Good heavens, what a horrible hostess I am!” Annelyn gasped. “My name’s Annelyn McMillian, but you can call me ‘Mum’ if you wish. Now come, Fae was right, I’ll not leave anyone with an empty stomach.”

Gently she took Jiin by an arm and led him way from the mass of rowdy thieves who had resumed singing “God Save The King” between bouts of some type of poker, finding a quieter seat amid the sprawling expanse of tables. The tension that had initially been there melted away in face of the evening’s celebrations; Winter Solstice was only a couple days away and the parties had already started. The table that she at last picked, small and round, was situated comfortably near the hearth, the roaring flames driving out the winter chill from the hall. A faint smile of satisfaction appeared at the corners of her mouth as she noted how clean the floors were; the King’s Cross was a well kept establishment, and McMillan liked to keep them that way.

“Now, what can I get you young man? We have a wide array of alcohol, and if that doesn’t suit your fancy, we also have several ciders and teas. Also, tonight we are serving beef stew as our special, but if there is anything you would like, just ask and I am sure we can make it.”

Suddenly a rosy-cheeked girl appeared behind the busty hostess in a swirl of skirts, smiling sweetly and looking almost identical to the older woman. They had the same golden hair, broad cheekbones and hips, and vivacious appearance. Jessica McMillian was a striking image of her mother, and though younger, seemed to posses the same knack for strength the older had; more than a few young men learned the hard way not to pinch or prod, their broken fingers testament to a lesson learned.

“Ahh, meet my daughter, Jessica,” Annelyn beamed, eyes twinkling merrily. She turned to the girl and whispered something about ‘tea’, then turned back to the stranger.

“Have any questions?”

Jiin honored Fae's request by staying behind as she ascended the tavern, feeling the tension of the moment vanishing with the appearance of Annelyn, he returned her warm smile as she guided him to a secluded table near the hearth, and listened politely as she listed off what they carried.

"Just tea please, I love trying foreign teas, so surprise me." He said with another smile, trying to ease away his nervousness. He was briefly introduced to Annelyn's daughter before she was sent off to get his tea. He had only time enough to nod politely before she disappeared.

"Have any questions?"

Jiin was usually a quiet, and reserved man. And so he was now, thinking for several moments before speaking, choosing his words carefully and making sure he was barely above a whisper.

"I must thank you for your hospitality, especially to a member of the kingsguard, I shall mention your warm welcome to the king when I return, though it may not be for some time. I do have a question though, i've seen thieves guilds before and each and every one of them, was a great source of power and influence within the city. I know this is the case here, but that is where the similarities end. For in Brevlan, the thieves guild is the only place within the city where one can find Honor, and respect. I ask if I may meet the leader. I know that he might endanger his standing by speaking with a member of the Kingsguard. But I wish to speak with him. Merely by letting me stay here, the assumption has been made that I've already spoken to him I assure you. If I may not, I shall honor the request and leave, however, a member of the guild died tonight, and I may know something that can help find out who's responsible."

He fell quiet after speaking, Jessica had returned with his tea, he nodded his thanks and flipped her a gold coin as a tip.

The tale said in Room 124 was told with brutal efficiency, and though it was short, it held many implications. Death of a comrade was not all together uncommon, especially with the hatred of other guilds bearing down endlessly, but the manner of death was the most disturbing. Fae had seen all manners of death in her lifetime, but had never seen someone’s face literally ripped off. She was not sure, however, that the Headmaster was particularly surprised; he remained calm and collected throughout the whole telling, and nodding that knowing head at her when she began to describe Nikoli’s corpse. In the end he asked only a few questions, then dismissed her.

A short time later, having made the trip up to her own room and then the short way back down, Fae descended the flight of stairs to the tavern floor, stripped of her aarden and feeling much better. She had peeled away the black, wiped the charcoal from her face, and now resumed the hawk-like visage. Several friends waved in greeting, but held back, not daring to approach the kingsguard and their matron mother, both of which were Fae’s destination. Experimentally she ran a slender hand through the slightly curly mass of brown hair on her head, tugging at the short ends nervously as she approached the duo. As she drew closer, however, her calm returned and she quieted the nervous ticks.

“ I ask if I may meet the leader. I know that he might endanger his standing by speaking with a member of the Kingsguard…”

“Endanger his standing by speaking with you?” Fae, catching the last part of the conversation, chuckled softly. “I assure you, guard, that the Headmaster has spoken with almost everyone of standing in Brevlan. It would be an insult to his intelligence if he did not charm a visiting kinsguard.”

The young thief took a seat at the table, occupying one of the open chairs next to Anneyln, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. The reason, Fae soon discovered, was the fact that the hostess had a hawk-like gaze latched on to a group of raucous thieves, all of which were probably soon to get a smack up-side the head. In fact, just as Fae was thinking of this, the giant matron lumbered out of her chair, and like an angry bear, charged over to the table. A pinch of a few ears set the young men straight, and soon after she had even joined their game of poker.

It occurred to the thief, as she sat there sipping tea with the kingsguard, that she did not know his name. “By the way, to those who I call me friend, I am known as Fae…”

“As for speaking to the Headmaster, he will be down shortly to speak with you. First he must attend to business.”

“Endanger his standing by speaking with you?” Fae, catching the last part of the conversation, chuckled softly. “I assure you, guard, that the Headmaster has spoken with almost everyone of standing in Brevlan. It would be an insult to his intelligence if he did not charm a visiting kingsguard.”

"Perhaps, but I am also an enemy to this city due simply to its very nature, and I have little to no political power or standing here, at least not alone."

“By the way, to those who I call me friend, I am known as Fae…”

"Am I to assume that we are friends then? I having chased you through the maze of Brevlan? Strange." He waved the musing away before continuing. "I am Jiin, I am from the Hoiin mountains north of Vvaryn." He paused then, letting the faint scent on her breath be analyzed before continuing. "You've been drinking." He hadn't meant to say it aloud, for it was nothing sinister nor was it any of his business. But he just hadn't expected it, perhaps it was due to her profession, true she had wit and was capable of humor, but in her profession perhaps he just thought she was more...disciplined than that. The ways of his homeland were not easily forgotten. He was removed from the depths of thought by Fae's voice once again.


“As for speaking to the Headmaster, he will be down shortly to speak with you. First he must attend to business.”

Jiin only nodded at her words, he felt a little embarrassed, not only for his earlier unintended outburst, but due to the fact that he wasn't used to speaking much. Not socially, it just wasn't part of his nature, perhaps it was something to do with the city, or perhaps, the company.

"You've been drinking."

There was a moment’s hesitation, as well as the widening of grey eyes, before Fae replied in a burst of laughter. Light and vaguely musical, it was heartfelt and innocent laughter, born of an amusement she had never truly felt before. Strangers were common place in a city such as Brevlan, but none were as foreign to her as the man sitting before her. Calm was his countenance, though poised for action, and his dark brown eyes swirled with the unknown. Even the act of sipping tea was done with a special reverence, one she noted he held for almost any action he performed. Upon closer scrutiny, she knew his severity would be tested, especially when housed in a den of thieves.

“Aye, and perhaps a few more will be mine before the end of the night.” She grinned, licking her lips subconsciously at the stranger.

“You are a mystery, guard, if you cannot claim to know the drink. Perhaps, with the right form of persuasion, you might be introduced,” Fae said with a wink, enjoying innocent flirtations.

Brevlan’s cruelties were forgotten momentarily in the face of music, good food, and superb tea. Burning images of a shattered face subsided against the onslaught of the familiar, and Fae’s concerns no longer plague her mind. Instead, dwelling in-between old memories and techniques for scaling the impossible, her apprehensions lay dormant. There was practically nothing that could truly steal her from her stupor, except for the soft face descending the stairway. The Headmaster, ever calm and freakishly nondescript, slipped quietly down the steps, making his way towards the duo. His face wore a faint smile, surprisingly good-natured, as he approached. Noting the approaching figure, Fae sobered her mind, bowing her head in acknowledgment.

“So, you are the new guest I have been told of…” Presenting a well muscled hand, the Headmaster greeted the stranger with appraising eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Jiin stood and offered the headmaster a polite bow before shaking his offered hand. "It is an honor to meet you. Fae here was kind enough to trust me after a run through the maze that is your city." Sitting back down Jiin took a breath before cutting right to the chase. "Forgive me for skipping small talk. But as Fae will likely have told you, a member of the thieves guild was killed tonight in a rather peculiar fashion, and it happens that I think I know how exactly he was killed. In my homeland, there are many fighters, myself included, who choose, instead of weapons, to harness the energy that flows within our body's. It goes by many names, but in my homeland we call it Chi. By harnessing this energy, and combining it with martial prowess, one can gain the ability to cause devastating damage with something as simple as a punch, and if one is skilled enough, the effect can bypass even plate armor. I'll demonstrate." He stood then, and walked over to a nearby table where two melons lay. Placing his hand atop one of them he locked eyes with both Fae and the Guildmaster as he spoke.

"I will demonstrate what I think the assailant used on your friend tonight first." Then he fell silent, eyes closed, and posture solid but relaxed. He took several deep breaths before suddenly and viciously bringing his hand down on the melon. Where his fist stopped, what appeared to be distorted waves of air continued, rippling violently through the melon and rendering it all, even the rind, to pulp. Without hesitation he moved to the second melon while speaking.

"Now, the more refined and effective technique." After a similar preparation to the first time, he repeated the sudden strike, this time though the waves of energy did nothing to the outside surface of the melon, in fact the blow seemed to do nothing at all, until Jiin walked to the bar and brought back a knife, slicing through the rind of the melon to reveal the mushy pulp that had become the inside of the fruit.

"This is to a lesser degree than what was used on your comrade. I do not have the ability to replicate that. Whomever did was clearly well trained, however they lack focus whether intentional or not I can't say, what I can say however, is that this person is incredibly Lethal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just as Jiin finished his speech, the doors to the Tavern opened to permit one more visitor, however this one was less welcome here than perhaps even a Red Mage. With a reputation for causing chaos and fear, Charles Deneger was renowned in Brevlan, and less than welcome in most places. However he had worked as an informant for the Thieves’ guild in the past and as such his presence was tolerated, barely. His stride was as always, smooth, his smirk arrogant, but his eyes, solemn. He fixed his green eyes on Jiin, and then the Guildmaster, and finally upon Fae. His smirk turned into a scowl as he inhaled, preparing to deliver grave news.

“Before anyone jumps up to attempt to kick me out. I actually have a purpose for being here.” He stopped when he arrived at the table, and threw a large piece of rolled up fabric on the table. Unrolling as it fell, the fabric revealed itself to be a bloodstained and tattered tabard of the Red Mages.

“Ansel is dead. Saw it happen, the kingsguard there is spot on as far as technique goes I’d say. Ansel tried to fight, but didn’t have a chance. The man punched him, and left a fist size crater in his chest. Then he fled. I wasn’t fool enough to try and stop the assailant. I took the liberty of bringing his tabard back as proof; you can see the hole in it.” Charles sighed, letting the news sink in before presenting the one bit of good news he had.

“On a brighter note to you folks, the headmaster of the Hassas Anubi guild is dead, so they will not pose any serious threat to you or your plans for some time while they work out their leadership issues.”

Charles stood with his hands on his hips, the arrogant smirk threatening to return as he waited for a reply.

Fae had never had any emotional attachment to a melon, unless of course you wanted to count Charles as one, but as the kingsguard stood and demonstrated the power of his Chi, she felt her throat constrict with concern. Nikolai had been that melon, his face a pulpy mass of flesh and bone rendered such only be the force of a hand. It seemed preposterous, outrageous that something so simple could kill so brutally, and it was frightening; the young thief knew Brevelan would never quite be the same after tonight. Looking to her headmaster, she knew he had similar thoughts running through his balded head, though whether or not they were born of fear or opportunity she could not tell.

“… this person is incredibly lethal.”

Plans, defenses, and still a red tabard weighed heavily upon one young mind as Fae sat in silence, contemplating the words that could not have rang truer. Times were always dangerous, especially when living amid the streets of Brevelan, but these… these were dark days. Soon, she feared, the tentative balance of her homeland would sink into the abyss of politics, and her world would be thrown into a chaos she could not predict. Sitting there among her comrades, most of whom were wholly unaware of the growing danger, Fae felt the world slipping from her nimble fingers.

Then oaken doors opened.

The heavens fell to the earth and stars exploded as Fae’s grey eyes fell upon an all too familiar figure. Strong, handsome features beset by mischievous green eyes stared back at her, set beneath a body of hunter’s grace that always seemed to lure the ladies to a standstill. As Fae’s eyes connected with his suddenly memories of cool autumn nights burned into her mind, images filled with the pressing of bodies, bared skin, and passionate embraces. She fell. Deep into oblivion of the past she fell, tumbling down into the dark where emotions ran rampant and seemed only intent on causing pain.

5 years ago; Summer Equinox.

He was staring at her, his hands gently caressing her cheek as he dipped down to press his lips to hers. Her heart fluttered.

2 years later; Autumn Harvest.

Beneath the moonlight they intertwined, bodies clasped together as passion consumed their minds. Her heart soared.

3 years later; Summer Solstice.

She gasped, watching from the shadows as the Hassas welcomed a new member, his green eyes radiating with triumph. Her heart shattered.

Fae, drawn back to the present, realized Charles was much closer, closer that she wished. Distaste fouled her mouth while her heart continued to bleed, but the young thief ignored them both, only staring at the young man with anger burning bright in her eyes. That was her safety net, the one thing that prevented her from taking a trip down the long dark road that meant no end: anger. It burned away fear and loss, the pain and suffering in a bright glorious hail of controlled fury. It was the reason she was still sitting, her teacup clenched tightly in her slender hands.

“Well,” the Headmaster spoke at last, his features a cool mask of neutrality. “it seems life may have either become much easier, or a world’s worth harder.”

Bowing his head to Jiin, “If you will excuse me, I have business to attend to. I am afraid this current development has… has changed a few things.”

Looking to Charles, he spoke curtly, “You did well…” then simply turned on heel and slipped back up to the mysterious meddling of his own politics.

Jiin watched their reactions, noticing the woman seemed to be speechless, and a bit distracted...lost in thought perhaps, she seemed to enter a daze as another man entered the tavern. Green eyes Jiin noted to himself. This was the man she had scuffled with outside, and yet now here he was bold as could be standing in a den of thieves. Jiin shook his head, the politics and intrigue of this town was too much for him alone, and when the man delivered the news of another death in the same night, he knew he had to return to the king and get reinforcements, or at least merely meet up with the other kingsguard surely on their way. He hadn't been sent alone, he was merely the first to arrive. Before the headmaster made it up the stairs Jiin voiced his plans.

"I apologize but I alone am not enough, I must go, to either meet the kingsguard who are likely on their way, or if that fails, return to the king. I do not wish to leave you in this state, but I won't be much help if i stay. You've all got my word that I'll make haste." With that the young foreigner gathered what little things he had, paid for his tea, and left. His stride was full of determination, he wouldn't fail. His king had issued him a task and he would, like with every other task set before him, succeed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charles could see the effect his mere presence was having on Fae, and despite his outward demeanor, full of arrogance and pride, he genuinely cared for her. But he doubted his feelings were mutual as they once had been. They had once loved each other deeply, and fully, but that had been before he had been asked to be an informant for the Thieves Guild. The headmaster needed an informant within the Hassas Anubi, and Charles was the only one that qualified in his eyes. He had the skills, the attitude, but most importantly the cunning, to do so. And so he was asked to live a lie, to deceive everyone, including fae...especially Fae. Make them think he had become nothing but a cunning, ruthless, mercenary. And he had done marvelously, being one of the Hassas' guildmaster's most trusted advisors and assassin's, while still doing the bidding of the thieves' guild, where his true loyalties lay. He had ascended faster than any previous Hassas member, and while that raised suspicions, those suspicions oft ended with his blade in their throat. Much like his loyalties did with the Hassas this very night, he had waited patiently for the perfect time, to carry out the ultimate task of crippling the Hassas, at least temporarily, and cripple him they did, all with a mere flick of his wrist. But was it worth it? It had cost him any relationship he had with anyone, his friends and any remaining family spoke his name with Venom, and Fae, fae hated him, he could see it in her eyes, but he had to apologize, even if it meant nothing, even if it did nothing, he had to tell her why. As the kingsguard left, and the headmaster complimented his performance and ascended the stairs he softened his gaze and let the facade of the assassin drop. Smirk turning to a slight frown, eyes failing to lock onto the fiery ones now boring into his soul. His voice was a hoarse whisper as he spoke, his gaze directed at the floor.

"Fae...we...I..need to tell you something. Whether it means anything to you or not, even if it changes nothing. I want you to know I am sorry. For making you live in darkness, for letting myself live a lie, for...damn it all for being as loyal as I am to this guild." He sighed heavily forcing back tears that threatened to halt his voice. "My words likely mean nothing to you, and I don't blame you. I'd hate me..I do[/i] hate me. But I did it because [b]he asked me to, because he said I was the only one capable, and I could tell no one, it didn't just have to look real, it had to be real....I...well, that's all I can say. At least now you know the truth, even if it is too late." He spoke quietly, but his words came out in a rush. Like water held behind a dam, when released there was no stopping it. He sighed once more, running a callused hand over his weary face, he needed a strong drink and a bed. Tomorrow he'd simply be a member of the Thieves' guild again at least until the Hassas' figured out who was responsible for the guildmaster's death. Then he'd be a prime target for bounty hunters.

Let them come. He thought as he sauntered solemnly toward an empty stool at the bar. He almost wished they'd come right now, if only to distract him from his own feelings, his hatred of himself.

Charles was speaking to her, directing his heated gaze towards the young thief, expecting what she could not tell. Instead, sitting there as calmly as she could manage, Fae tried to keep her emotions in check. She failed. Her eyes still latched firmly to his chin, unable to fully look him in the eyes or even look away, she faintly heard something break. For a split second she looked down, noticing that he cup in her hand had shattered, spilling hot tea, though she felt nothing. Fae’s eyes widened in surprise as she shook away pewter fragments, startled by her own lack of sensory perception. Then she was drawn back to the man standing before her, his words registering for the first time.

“I want you to know I am sorry.”

She wanted to scream at him, beat her hands against his chest till his heart bled like hers. Fae could only stare at him, wishing for nothing more than an end to the conflict within her. Her heart screamed to either beat him bloody, or fall into his embrace to cry herself into remission.

“…loyal as I am to this guild.”

Fae stood in a rush, practically throwing her chair aside in the haste to stand; the action drew a multitude of stares. Though she stood only chin high to Charles, her petite frame shook with emotion, her body taught as a spring, ready to snap.

“What about loyalty to me, Charles?” she whispered vehemently, tears threatening to cloud her vision. She poked him hard in the chest, accusing him, condemning him. “Did I mean so little to you, was I simply a tool to be tossed aside?”

Some part of Fae had seen the emotion rolling off her former lover in waves, and knew that he had loved her. But she would not see it, could not see it lest her resolve dissolve in a wave of longing and loneliness. It was supremely easier to cope if she could burn away her fears with anger, if young Fae could blame someone for her break. It had taken a year to reach functioning level, and then she had hardly even scratched the surface of emotional healing. How easy it would be to stay mad, her mind echoed, how much less painful than addressing the fact that he had never betrayed her. Then melancholic grief resurfaced in a rush.

“You broke my heart…” she whispered, the first of tears trickling down her freckled face.

Before the flood gates could break and the damn was released, Fae fled. Weaving through the tables with abandon, desperately trying to stem the tide, the young thief sprinted up oaken steps with tears streaming down her face and sobs threatening to immobilize her. Her flight was brief, and finding solace in her room, she threw open the door in a rush, sinking to the floor as sobs wracked her body. There was no control, only the burning pain as her body gave way to the tears. And amid the darkness and cries, Fae wished for Charles.

"Damn it all." Charles cursed as she stomped in quiet anger toward her room. He threw the bottle he was holding against the wall, the brittle glass shattered and threw shards back toward him, its amber contents splattered abstractly across the dark wood. The Barkeep started to protest but Charles shot him a threatening glare that the words caught in his throat. He started off after her, wincing slightly as he heard a door slam, her door. As he ascended the stairs his head swirled with possibilities on what to say, swirling but never stopping, never settling, and so he found himself at her door without words. It had been slammed so hard it failed to latch, and thus stood slightly ajar, the sound of stifled sobs coming from within. Gently pushing the door open, he inhaled and told himself that he couldn't run, to do so would only make things worse, for him, but especially for her. He had no words, and so he simply stood in silence for several moments.

"What do you want me to say? That I loved you so much the guild didn't matter, that what the headmaster gave me didn't matter? You know that's not true, even you couldn't say such a thing and mean it. Damn it Fae, it was either give up everything but the guild, or LOSE everything and the guild. Bah." He said throwing his hands up, it wasn't an excuse and he knew it, there had to have been another option, he just had been too, eager, too arrogant to see it at the time.

"Not that it matters. What's done is done and all I have to show for it is regret." He muttered to himself, angry at himself, angry at the headmasters muttered praise, angry at the world. "Well done he says, job well done, mission complete, and for what." Looking back at Fae, crumpled at the foot of the bed, he fought down the urge to hold her. Again words had failed him, he had always been good with words, except with her. Always had a keen mind, except when talking with her. Always had a cool head, except with her. He hoped his words didn't just make things worse.

"I...know i broke your heart, I relive the agony everyday. I can only say I'm sorry, but I know that's worth little if anything." His expression softened, and he drew his dagger, laying it on the floor at her feet. "Here. I give you the option to bring me some pain as well. Whether I receive it in the back or the chest or in hand matters not my heart was taken from me long ago. I'm going to see the headmaster, if I make it there." He said quietly, turning to leave once more, wondering if his own will would stop him, or his dagger.

The darkness of night wrapped itself around a trembling frame, clinging to a bed post as a man clutches at safety amid the dark waters of the ocean. Fae lay there atop the floorboards, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks while the dam of emotion had finally broken. She was drowning. Dying not of any blade or sickness, but of a massacre of the heart. Never had she felt such pain, a literal ache in her chest that paled broken bones. It seeped into the deepest recesses of her mind, clouding everything in a hazy red fog, everything but the moments of her life she least wanted to remember.

Every moment she had ever spent with her love flashed before her reddened eyes, and as Fae attempted to muffle the sobs escaping her throat, she felt more than heard someone enter. The last and first man she wanted to see had entered her room, and as the young thief mewled in agony, she tried desperately to hide her tears. But to stop the flood required more strength than she had to give, and she had nothing strong to hold to. Throwing a watery gaze up, Fae saw pain reflected in the eyes of the man she had loved. Still loved. She wanted to hate him, to loathe the very ground he walked upon, but she could not.

Eventually, the flash of cold steel drew Fae’s grey eyes, reddened by tears and pain relived. Staring at the blade, the young thief felt a weariness consume her, body and mind. Finally the floodgates had closed. Before her lover could leave, Fae spoke.

“I will not hurt you, not as you have wounded me. My scars are mine to deal with, Charles, and I will not impart them upon you.”

She paused, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I may have taken your life in the past, but now…”

Standing in one swift motion, albeit on shaking legs, she offered the blade back, pommel first. “I am too tired, too weary of this world to add more unnecessary bloodshed. Your life is your own, Charles, do with it what you will.”

A cruel wisdom had been imparted on a mind that should not know it, but Fae felt its cool touch embrace her heart. Encased in ice, the young thief left the room with heavy steps and shoulders slouched in defeat. There was nowhere in particular to go, except perhaps in the bottom of a bottle, but she had visited there too often already. Charles was swimming through her mind, and after every moment was relived with painful clarity, Fae felt some of the ice chip away from her heart. She still loved him, despite of everything.

“And perhaps someday I will learn to trust you again,” she whispered into the night.

Charles slumped his shoulders as she spoke. Her words As you have wounded me. echoed in his mind for what seemed like eternity. Pain, pain was all he felt, even though he believed himself to be beyond pain, having made the sacrifice of his heart long ago. Yet now, he felt it, the agony of regret, of disappointment in himself. It burned as sure as any physical wound did, but the cut was much, much deeper.

Words cut deeper than swords. The words of the headmaster echoed in his head now, and instead of relief or comfort, they brought with them only anger. Anger at himself, and anger at the man that had given him a home, a life.

Fae's retreating form brought him back to the room, his eyes narrowed and his scowl deepened. He clenched the dagger Fae had returned to him in a gloved hand. He stalked down the hall with purpose, the grace of a predator was gone. When he arrived at the headmaster's room there was no knocking, no declaring his presence with words, no he raised a booted foot and kicked the door in. The sudden explosion of noise and splinters didn't seem to startle the headmaster, though his gaze rapidly focused upon the intruder.

"Charles. I take you have a reason for kicking my door in."

"Enough with the games old man. You made me lie to the one person I care about more than anything."

"If you are referring to the Hassas assignment you made that choice on your own."

"Hell of a choice, to give up everything and lose what means most to me for the guild, or to simply lose everything."

"I gave you a home Charles are you so selfish as to not desire to give anything back to the guild."

"I've done my part, I did what I was ordered to do, as folly as it may have been I, the loyal dog did my master’s bidding, and all I get for throwing my life away is two words of praise. Well I'm done old man. I don't give a damn about your political games, or your status or this damn town. I'm done with it all." He stated with a voice not full of malice or hate, but a voice that was very simply, tired. He walked up the desk that the headmaster sat so smugly behind and quickly stabbed the dagger clenched in his hand into the mahogany before turning and striding slowly from the room.


He found her outside the inn, a bottle of liquor in one hand and an empty glass in the other. She had not heard him approach so he stood for a moment, made himself look at the mess he had made of such a wonderful, beautiful human being. Made himself look at her tear stained face, her puffy eyes, her shaking hands, her soft lips, lips he regretted letting go. He shuffled quietly, to let her know that someone was there more than anything, before reaching out a hand and gently wiping away fresh tears.

“You say your scars are yours to bear, perhaps they are, but only because I put them there. Let me try and heal the scars I’ve made.” He leaned in letting his lips brush hers slightly before whispering once more. “I no longer belong to anyone, tonight and hereafter I am nothing more than a broken man.” Then he pushed his lips against hers, if only to give her one last kiss. He didn’t expect forgiveness, he didn’t know what to expect, he only knew that he kissed her as if it was the last time he would, pouring everything he had left to give into it. When he broke, his breathing was labored, and his heart heavy.

“I do not wish to say goodbye again, but if you wish to be alone, I shall.”