Note: I do not own Thief! A good amount of this stuff is coming from my wild imagination. Just for clarification, the Garrett here is the Garrett from the newest Thief. I'm most familiar with this one, the new game being the only one I've played. But I've spent a lot of time doing research on the old games and Mechanical Eye Garrett. I'll try working him in somehow. I read about the Precursor civilization in the Thief Wikia and thought it would be super cool to connect them up more with the story somehow.

Precursor

The walls trembled and dust fell from the ceiling as the earth shook and the lights flickered. Geir ignored the disturbance as much as he could as he rushed from room to room, gathering required materials needed for the ceremony.

Another violent shake rumbled the building. Time was running short. Alarmingly short.

Some of his apprentices began calling his name. He answered and they sought him out, struggling to stay on their feet in response to the violent shaking. Geir quickly told them the other materials that were needed. The young men nodded breathlessly and set off to their tasks while the women stayed by his side. Geir motioned for them to follow him.

"Evanthe! Evanthe!" he called out.

"I am here, Geir!" he heard his wife yell. He began running towards the sound of her voice and the cries of his child. He found them in an open room, huddled by a tall pillar. Two small bags were settled at her feet. Her beautiful golden eyes were wide with fear and her black hair was littered with debris. His baby boy screamed relentlessly, terrified by the violent commotion of the earthquakes.

He took his wife under his arm and began directly them to a door leading to a courtyard. The women apprentices gathered Evanthe's belongings and quickly followed behind. "Evanthe, a horse is waiting for you on the outskirts of the city. It should not take you long to make it there. As soon as you reach the horse, ride as hard and far away from the city as you can. Do not stop to help anyone. Do not look back," Geir instructed her.

She whimpered in slight protest, but nodded her agreement. They had argued over this moment for days now. "Once I am finished with the ceremony, I will make every effort to join you."

"I do not wish to be without you, my love."

They reached the courtyard and he turned his family to look upon them. The courtyard was dark as the sun had been blotted out by the rising smoke as the city burned. The air was sweltering. Evanthe looked into his eyes, clearly fighting back tears.

Geir looked down at his son, taking in his tiny body for what could very well be the last time. "You must get Gerik to safety. If this ceremony works, the bloodline has to survive. Gerik has to survive." He withdraw a small dagger from his thigh and a vial from his pocket. He allowed Gerik to take hold of his finger for a moment before taking the dagger and running the tip along a tiny portion of the child's hand.

Gerik withdrew his grasp, surprised by the pain. He began screaming once again. Geir fought back a wave of emotions, almost regretting the decision as he directed some of the boy's blood into the vial.

Geir pocketed the vial and withdrew another. Evanthe presented her finger to him, to which he did the same ritual. Her finger twitched at the pain of the dagger. He collected the blood and pocketed that vial before taking her finger in his hand and raising it to his lips. He kissed the wound and then took his family once more.

He kissed Gerik's forehead and then took Evanthe's face carefully in his hands. "Do not look back," he whispered once more before kissing her small pink lips. He turned them away from him and pointed towards a gate. The apprentices took Evanthe and Gerik and began rushing them out.

Geir prayed that they would make it to safety in time.

…

Garrett watched all of this unfolding before him. This was by far the most realistic dream he had ever experienced. The only fact that made him remember that it was only a dream was that no one seemed to notice his presence.

He didn't understand a word that was being spoken by these people. He had no idea what was going on. All he could gather was that this man seemed to be trying to accomplish something important and send off his wife, or lover, and child.

All hell was breaking loose in this city. Garrett watched as beautiful statues toppled to the ground and shattered and large paintings burn to ashes. It pained him, seeing so many things that if sold would set him up with enough gold to retire.

Not that he would even retire now.

And it was just a dream, he kept reminding himself.

Garrett could have sworn he heard the man say his name once, in reference to the baby. But when he said it again, Garrett heard the distinction. Gerik. Not Garrett.

Geir turned and headed back inside the crumbling building. Garrett followed him, curious to see what else this dream had in store.

…

Geir met the apprentices inside the building. They had gathered the rest of the materials, namely various books that he would need to reference in case he did something wrong. Geir approached what looked like a wall, but he took his finger and traced a figure in the air. Suddenly, the wall shuddered and it was revealed to be a door. He ordered three of the men to stay at the entrance and call down if soldiers stormed the building.

He shoved the door open and the group began traveling down a dark stairway. The staircase was thin and difficult, even more so because of the low light and now constant tremors. After sometime the passage widened and the floor evened out. They were in a cave of some sorts.

The eyes of the apprentices were wide with wonder. They had never known of the existence of this place. None of them were even sure what Geir was to do down here, but they had faith that whatever he had planned would save Karath-din. The Keeper always knew how to keep the balance.

A light could be seen ahead of them. It was strange. It was not from a fire, as it pulsed like a heartbeat and was the cool color of blue. When they finally reached the light, they all gasped except for Geir.

All around them were glowing gems embedded in the walls. White flowers that emitted blue light sprouted from every recess. And in the center of the natural room was a small pool that glowed from an unknown source. "This, my brothers," spoke Geir quietly, "is the Amaryllis Anemone."

He gazed thoughtfully at the pool. "The Heart of the City."

Geir moved suddenly, breaking the apprentices from their hypnosis. He approached the pool and stood on its bank. He withdrew the vials and handed them to the nearest apprentice before crouching down, dagger once again drawn. Quickly he began scrawling various glyphs around the pool.

"Sir, do you need our help?"

"No, just keep watch."

After completely going around the pool and scratching the glyphs into the stone he mumbled something that none of them could quite understand. The glyphs themselves lit up in the ghostly blue color. He requested the vials, and taking each one carefully, began speaking.

"I, the One True Keeper, hereby bind myself and my bloodline to this City."

He opened one vial and turned it over, allowing the contents to fall into the pool. Tendrils of red began spreading through the stagnant water.

"Bound to forever keep the balance between man and gods. To protect the people who live on these grounds, at any cost."

He poured in the next vial of blood.

"And bound forever to keep hidden the location of the Amaryllis Anemone."

Geir drew the dagger across his palm and squeezed the blood out over the water, joining his tendrils with that of his family's.

"Ita fiat." The pool lit up brightly and some invisible force began turning the pool. The blood distributed through the waters and the pool took on a red hue, still pulsing like a heartbeat. Satisfied, he turned to the men behind him. One of them ripped a piece of fabric from their cloaks and handed it to him. He took it gratefully and wrapped it around his hand as they made their way back up to the surface.

Geir traced a symbol in the air again, and the wall once again shut as if it hid nothing unordinary.

"What are we to do now, Geir?" one of the men asked.

"We are leaving. I am going to try to join my family. You may go your own way or go with me."

"The ceremony isn't going to stop the earthquakes?" another questioned.

"No. Nothing can save Karath-din."

The apprentices were speechless and confused. He saw this and explained, "I do not know the cause of this disaster. If we have done something to anger the gods or if what is happening is simply a natural disaster. But nothing can be done. So you can either flee with me or leave the city your own way, but I do not suggest staying here. The soldiers are coming for me and will surely kill you if they find you here. I thank you for your faithfulness."

Geir turned and ran to a nearby room. He gathered his weapons, securing the quiver along his back and buckling his light sword to his waist. He took the bow in his right hand and made for the exit. His apprentices were gone. He hoped they would be able to find their own families amongst the chaos.

He sprinted down an alley silently for a ways before having to take to the rooftops. Even though some of the buildings' were crumbling, he navigated across the buildings with surefooted ease. He could see the walls of Karath-din, and his heart soared with the possibility of being reunited with his family.

But just as soon as he allowed himself some joy, the feeling was shot down when an arrow clipped at his feet and shouts were directed at him. He dove for cover without even searching for the source of the arrow. He withdrew and arrow from the quiver, one that was equipped with the ability to create a blast, before daring a peek around his cover.

A small group of soldiers were gathering in the street, pointing and shouting at him. More were making their way to the commotion. Geir made a split-second decision then. Kill or be killed. He pulled back the arrow and left his cover. He quickly aimed it at the feet of some guards and released the projectile. It exploded and four soldiers instantly caught on fire, falling to the ground writhing. He took the opportunity to make a run for better cover, a fireplace on an adjacent roof.

He picked up as much speed as he could before launching his body toward the roof. But about halfway between the roofs, he saw that the area of his landing glowing red, unsteady as a fire worked its way through the wood. There was nothing he could do.

He hit the roof and immediately fell through. He landed on a hard floor with a grunt. Fire surrounded him and he heard the soldiers outside the building, demanding that he give himself up. Pulling himself up, he pulled out another arrow. He could see the soldiers through the flames that licked the windows.

Moving about quickly he was able to take out some of the guards. But the building was crumbling around him and he had effectively used all of his arrows. At any moment the roof would crash down on him. He knew he had a better chance of making a run for it.

He chose an area that looked thin with flames, mustered up his courage and charged. He crashed through the thin wall, rolled and found himself immediately surrounded by soldiers. They lunged at him and he drew his sword to defend himself.

Geir fought with skill and speed, but it seemed that whenever he took down one man, two more would come running up to join the fight. He was losing the fight as they kept inching closer and closer to him, becoming bolder with each swing.

A sudden violent tremor shook all of them and Geir lost his balance along with several of the soldiers. But one of the men took the opportunity and swung his blade down at Geir. Searing pain tore down the right side of his face and his eyesight turned red.

Geir dropped his sword and yelled in pain. The soldiers recovered and removed the sword from Geir's reach. They grabbed at his arms and legs. He struggled against them, knocking back some of them. He drew up on his knees and was about to begin defending himself again when his world exploded with light from the back of his head.

Geir felt himself crumple to the ground, and as darkness faded in around him, he desperately hoped the Evanthe and Gerik had made it safely out of Karath-din.

…

Garrett was stunned by the sudden turn of events. He followed Geir through everything. He thought for sure the man was going to reach the edge of the city. But then disaster struck and all Garrett could do was watch helplessly as the man fought off hordes of soldiers and was slashed in the right eye and eventually struck in the head.

The soldiers took the man and began dragging him off. They took him to some sort of temple. At least that was what he assumed it to be. There were large damaged statues of strange beings all over the place. Men in robes hurried towards the soldiers lugging Geir between them.

Garrett could taste the bile rising in his throat at the robed men. Priests, of some sorts. Their hands were red and dark blotches marred the color of their robes. They motioned for Geir to be carried inside the temple. Once in there they began tearing the clothing from his body. They seemed upset at the soldiers, gesturing wildly at his right eye… or lack thereof.

Once they had him stripped they began dragging him once again out another door. There was a blood-stained alter centered in a dark room with no windows. Candles were scattered about the room, but provided very little light as more were melted down and their wicks burned out. In the back corners of the room were several bodies stacked up; various animals mixed with humans.

Geir groaned, and the soldiers hastened to the alter and quickly placed him upon it. He was shackled to the stone and Garrett realized with horror what was about to happen. This is why robes were always a bad sign! He wasn't sure, but he was thinking that these men believed Geir to be the cause of the destruction.

Garrett turned to leave, not wanting to watch the killing. But his legs felt suddenly heavy as if weighed down by something. He saw nothing but was still unable to move, no matter how hard he tried. He willed himself to wake up, desperately opening and closing his eyes over and over and pinching his arm. Still he remained, forced to witness the scene before his eyes.

…

Geir fought his way back to consciousness. He felt the hard, cold surface beneath his body, which was completely devoid of any clothing, and the cool metal around his wrists and ankles and knew immediately where he was. He knew there was no use trying to break the chains, so he began shouting at the men in dark robes surrounding him.

"I am not responsible for this disaster! I have done everything I know to stop it! Please!"

The leader drew next to him, brandishing a silver blade. "Geir, you were trusted with the role of Keeper, and have failed to keep balance. You have angered the gods! You have betrayed Karath-din and you must pay with your life for this! We pray that it is not too late to appease the gods!"

"No, please! I have done nothing!"

The priests ignored his please and began chanting. His good eye searched the room wildly, hoping desperately that someone would protest this. He had no allies in this room though. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the violent beating in his chest.

Geir's eye landed on a man standing to his left who did not fit in with anyone. He looked the man directly in the eyes, taking notice of his right eye, which glowed a strange blue color. The man was lean, relatively young but worn, with dark hair and donned in tight-fitting light armor.

The man noticed Geir staring at him, and his eyes widened in wonder, as if stunned.

A strange thought entered his mind then.

He was so taken by the man before him that he did not taken notice of the blade raised high above his chest or the excited chanting of the robed men around him.

"Gerik?" he asked timidly.

Cool metal slammed into his chest, and he gasped. His heart protested at the sudden intrusion of the blade embedded deep in it. He huffed for air but his heart beat slowly and quietly a few more times before giving up.

As he felt himself slipping, he looked once again at the man standing there. Geir seemed to be the only one who saw him, and his last thought before his death was that this man was his legacy.

The Keeper.

…

Geir had been staring directly at him.

Geir had seen him. He had asked if Garrett was his son before the blade was driven into his heart. The eye contact with the man had sent shivers down his back and Garrett had just stared back, dumbfounded.

The tremors stopped. The priests began glancing at one another. After a moment they began smiling and speaking to each other excitedly.

Then, the earth shook harder than it ever had before. A crack formed in the floor and ran up the wall. The ground opened up, and the stone alter slid into the gaping hole, taking Geir with it down into darkness.

The men cried out in horror as the whole building was wrenched apart and was being swallowed by the earth. Garrett looked up just in time to see a hunk of the ceiling barreling towards him. He raised his arms and closed his eyes, fully expecting the heavy concrete to crush his body.

He shot up in his bed instead, breathing heavy and sweating profusely. He rubbed his eyes and concentrated on slowing down his heartbeat. After a couple minutes of replaying the whole dream in his mind, Garrett decided that that would be the last time he would let Basso talk him into drinking the cheap ale sold at the Crippled Burrick in large amounts ever again. He was quite sure that it was made mostly of piss now.

Garrett slid back into his bed and closed his eyes.

This time when he slept, he did not dream about Geir.

Instead he dreamt about someone much like himself.

He dreamt of a master thief named Garrett and he knew that he would very much like this man.

Whew! Hope you enjoyed this! Not sure if I'll continue on or not, but I have a feeling I will. Please review this! It's only my second fanfic so I'm wanting as much feedback as possible! Thanks!