Prologue
"Sometimes, when one person is missing,
the whole world seems depopulated."
-Lamartine
~.~.~
Being an assassin-on-the-run made it hard to rest.
He had been fleeing the grasps of the Antivan Crows for years now, and since his departure from the Warden's party they were more adamant than ever in seeing to his death. His natural demeanor was usually stripped of any fear he may have had of the Crows, but it was not out of fear that his restlessness reared its ugly head. It was the burning, gaping hole in his pride.
He refused to admit this to himself, deciding instead that he was merely not used to being on his own. But no matter how many times he reiterated this to himself, how comfortable the inn, how many women were to share his bed, or how much ale he seemed to have downed, he faced the inevitable truth that he would not sleep. Again.
It was most infuriating. It seemed his leaving the Warden's party was increasingly imbecilic and self-deprecating with every passing hour.
He sighed wearily as he kicked the covers from his body. It was no use. The sun was now blaring through the windows, as if its sole intent was to prevent him from relaxation. He spent the night (akin to many other nights before it) staring blindly at those windows with the hope of sleeping at last. But the endeavor was to no avail. He tugged on his leather boots and shrugged into his gear accordingly. If he wasn't going to sleep, then he would get some work done in the least. For he was not going to avoid the Crows forever. He just needed the time required to gain loyalties, collect debts, and accrue information on the workings of the Crows since he had become their enemy.
His feat would not be an easy one, especially after his involvement in saving Thedas from the Blight (and his involvements with the Warden during that bout of insanity). But leaving Elleira behind was necessary for the craziness he was about to ensue. He needed time, as well as a peaceful, strategic state of mind—which the woman always seemed to infiltrate with her mere presence.
After all, if he were to attempt tackling the leader of the largest and most elite assassin hierarchy in Thedas, he would need some serious planning.
And some serious flirting.
Upon that thought, Zevran's day became significantly brighter.