"Ye ducknob! Ye appear out of NOWHERE, wha' am I suppose' t'think-" Sarasai yelled, her face going red as she released her anger at her newly revealed brother.
"Aye, shut it. Ye know where I was. The CELLS. Ye didn't have the guts t'visit-" Graf interjected, but Sarasai quickly shouted over him.
I shook my head, heading down the previously quiet laneway behind the Market of Sorrows. Yates and Sesha, our fellow lookouts, had split off a few minutes ago, to go to their own post.
So now it was just me stuck with the yelling siblings.
"Ma always liked ye better-" Sarasai was saying, though I had no idea how that was relevant to the argument anymore.
"SO?" Graf screamed back at her.
"I thought ye'd got over it-" He retorted, but I'd finally had enough.
"SHUT IT!" I yelled, emitting a ball of purple light from my hand, throwing it between them.
They both turned to gape at me, mouths wide open, speechless, thankfully.
I rolled my eyes at their expressions.
"Graf, go away, you're not supposed to be here. Sarasai'll talk to you later, right Sarasai?" I said forcefully, glaring at my friend.
Sarasai huffed, nodding slightly in a grudging acquiesce, and Graf shuffled off.
Ah, silence. Thank Mithros for that.
"I ain't seen him for near on a year." Sarasai said quietly, startling me.
"Why?" I asked curiously, unable to stop myself from prying into the past of my friend, a subject I was just discovering that I knew very little about.
"He went to t'palace to work. He was spyin' for the Rogue." She said bluntly, her gaze on the ground.
"He wanted t'overthrow the Provost. Looks like he'll get his wish." She muttered bitterly.
"You didn't want him to go to the palace?" I asked, gathering that much from her expression.
"Aye. Thought he'd get himself killed." She said, kicking a pebble with his foot. "Nearly did."
She sighed, looking down the laneway after him.
We stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, Sarasai looking morose, myself pondering her words and the whole situation.
"You didn't realise it was him when we broke out of the cells?" I asked, it seemed rather far-fetched that they'd almost come face to face some many times recently, but hadn't realised the other's identity.
"Nay. He looks different." She said flatly, and I could tell I wasn't going to get much information out of her from now on. Sarasai was usually bubbly and mischievous, and seeing her thoroughly dejected and slightly angry was a foreign concept.
"Alanna." The Goddess said, appearing in front of the short woman, startling her.
"Goddess." Alanna murmured, carefully studying the Goddess' features.
As far as Alanna could tell, her anger seemed to have abated, and she had the determined look that the red-head had come to associate with a new plan.
"How can I help?" Alanna asked, courteous for once, treading carefully around the Goddess.
"I would like you to train Alenne to fight. She has some basic skills, but she will need to be much, much more competent for the task that faces her." The Goddess said, pacing up and down before the female legend.
"What is this task, exactly?" Alanna asked, curious.
"Mithros believes that Jonthair must be killed for things to progress along the proper course. I have decided that the one to fulfil this task must be Alenne." She said bluntly, offering only as much information as was strictly necessary.
"Alenne? Kill Jonthair?" Alanna asked, her face betraying her speculation.
"Are you sure?" She added, wide-eyed.
"Yes." The Goddess added, her tone now cold, wanting no argument to her orders.
"Visit her soon, and start training her. I fear that this will all come to a head by Midwinter."
With that ominous line, the Goddess disappeared, leaving Alanna much bogged down by worry for her charge, and worry for the future of her country.
After all, Midwinter was just over three weeks away. How much progress could a girl make in three weeks?
I stifled a yawn, sliding down lower against the rough stone wall as I did so.
"Oi," Sarasai exclaimed, hitting me on the shoulder, "don't nod off, now."
I turned to glare at her.
"It's been over two hours. Standing here, doing nothing, is getting old." I replied, grudgingly lifting myself up higher.
As much as I would have liked to ignore Sarasai's order, I knew that falling asleep whilst on watch was not a good thing to do.
Especially not when your betters are thieves.
"We're not doin' nothin'. We're on watch." Sarasai replied, before returning to her previous hobby, kicking a pebble between her feet.
I watched her for a moment, before I turned my face back to the road. We were perched behind a pile of boxes in an side alley, just around the corner from the Market. When attack time came, we were ordered to move to the alleyway itself, but since that time had yet to arrive, the most exciting thing that had happened was Sarasai and Graf's argument.
"Psst."
I whirled my head around, looking for the source of the noise. It might have been my imagination, but the atmosphere was suddenly tense and alert, and I swore I could feel the air pulsing around me.
Though, I was possibly overtired. That could explain the 'heightened senses', or, as Sarasai would say 'cracknob speak'.
Finding nothing, I warily settled back into my position. Sarasai, now a few feet away from me, was completely absorbed in her pebble (some lookout, eh? ).
"Alenne!"
I stood up, this time certain I'd heard something. My senses were tingling, and I was on full alert.
"Who's there?" I called out into the darkness, my eyes flicking between Sarasai and the dark space in front of me.
"It's me."
A man suddenly materialised in front of me, like a curtain was pulled back.
"Jasson?" I said, staring at the face in front of me incredulously.
"Alenne." He said, his tone urgent.
He was clad in simple clothes, completely different from what he would usually wear. He looked every inch a merchant, not a prince.
"What are you doing here? How did you do that? And what are you wearing?" I said, looking him up and down, my mouth open in disbelief.
"I had to warn you. Jonthair, my uncle, he's searching for you. If he finds you, you're as good as dead. Escaping from the cells is as good as admitting you're a mage." He said, his face pale and drawn, worry etched into his brow.
"He won't find me." I said, a confidence I hadn't realised I had coming through.
"Jasson, you didn't answer my question. How did you just appear like that?" I asked, my mind instantly flicking to the mystery at hand.
"Magic." He replied, waving away my query with a brush of his hand.
"I found some old books in the library, hidden at the back. Sarasai can't hear or see me, by the way." He looked briefly to my friend, still absorbed in her pebbles, before turning back to me.
I looked at him for a minute, astounded that he had the audacity to practice magic barely a hair's width away from his Uncle.
"Did you come here dressed like a simpleton for any other reason than to tell me I'm in danger? I assure you, I can take care of myself!" I said, suddenly furious that he'd come all this way, risking his own life, at a time like this, simply to tell me something that was fairly obvious.
"There's more. Jonthair's sent the Provost on a mission to get rid of the rebel network." He said, stepping forward so that his face was half in shadow.
Something in my gut clenched. I had no reason, but I knew that something was wrong. Something was bad.
"I'm sure he'll have someone on the inside now, it's the Provost's style. If they're planning anything-"
My face, which had been growing steadily graver and was white with panic, turned, as did Jasson's, to the clock tower, which was now chiming.
Ding.
"The Provost has someone in the Rogue?" I whispered urgently to Jasson.
If the attack was compromised...
Ding.
"Yes. Alenne, they are planning something, aren't they! You must stop them, if they get caught-"
Ding.
Jasson was once again cut off by the chimes, but I was no longer listening. I had moved outside of Jasson's magic bubble, sprinting towards Sarasai and the alleyway's exit.
Ding.
"Sarasai!" I whispered, barely able to contain my panic so that I didn't shout and blow our cover, and endanger us all.
Ding.
"What?" She said, spinning around on her heel to face me.
Ding.
"The Provost knows! They'll be here any second, I'm sure-"
Ding.
"WHAT?" She exclaimed, her face now mirroring mine.
Panic.
Ding.
We both sprinted down the alleyway towards the Market, and I didn't waste a second wondering about Jasson. He'd come of his own accord, he'd get back safely.
Ding.
I hope so, anyway.
Ding.
We approached the Market gates, preparing for a catastrophe.
Instead, we were surrounded by a mass of people, dressed in rags, covered in dirt, screaming, running down the alleyway.
Running towards freedom.
Ding.
The Rogue had succeeded. The slaves had been freed.
We hadn't been captured.
Yet.
The roar of burning wood echoed behind us as we all sprinted for safety. Once the attack was finished, the Rogue had wasted no time in getting us back to the Court, to safety.
I had hurriedly explained, whilst running, the information I had received from 'a birdie', and he'd taken action.
The warning bells, for the guards, started sounding as we rounded Koskynen Street.
We all sped up.
The door banged closed behind the last thief, and cheering erupted.
All of us, foreigners, thieves, mages, slaves, we all cheered.
We had succeeded.
The revolution had begun.
King Jonthair's reign would soon come to an end, and I would live free of fear, free of danger.
"Alenne," The Rogue approached me, his hand on my shoulder, "You said the Provost has an insider informant, are you absolutely sure?" He said, his face, unlike those of everyone surrounding us, was grim.
"I wish I wasn't sure, Highness." I said, the momentary relief and celebration leaving me.
We had a rat.
"QUIET!" The Rogue called, and the room, as always, instantly fell under his command.
"I have just been informed that there is a betrayer among us." He said, pacing around the room, his eyes boring into each pair he met. He voice was low, threatening, reminding me of the reality of his position as Rogue, and the blood on his hands.
"Whoever you are, you have betrayed not only me, and everyone in this room, this revolution, this community, but yourself. You help those who oppress us, you work against a good cause. You will pay."
He motioned with his hands, and his guards wordless moved to the exits, stopping anyone from exiting.
We all stood completely still, riveted by the Rogue in his anger.
This night, originally one of joy, was now marred by betrayal.
It was then that the reality of what we were trying to do hit me. We were trying to change things to what we felt was better, but others would disagree. People would be hurt by what we did.
And that wasn't even bringing in the mages' struggle for freedom. That was simply Jonthair's oppressive rule and the uprising caused by it. Whilst I agreed with the Rogue's cause, it was then, looking at the terror in many a person's eyes, that I felt like perhaps, just perhaps, we had chosen the wrong path.
Was a peaceful reconciliation out of the question? Was a kind ruler, someone like Jasson, to far from the realm of possibility?
Would it be unreasonable for us to just...wait? Jonthair wouldn't live for ever, and I was convinced Jasson would be a better ruler. He was a true descendant of King Jonathon, unlike his Uncle.
"NONE OF YOU WILL LEAVE HERE UNTIL THE BETRAYER HAS CONFESSED!" The Rogue shouted, and the room cowered.
Silence fell, and I saw many thieves eyeing their neighbours with distrust. This betrayal would change us forever. I had always seen the Court as a sort of family, everyone jolly and friendly, all willing to die for each other.
Of course, that wasn't true, but it took an event like this for me to realise the true nature of a thief.
Dishonest, selfish and greedy.
Crash.
"NO ONE MOVE! YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST BY ORDER OF THE-"
The group of guards, armed with swords, streaming through the now broken doors, appeared, and screaming broke out.
People ran in all directions, the Rogue was frozen in his spot, the centre of the room. The thieves guarding the doors were on the ground, surrounded by a pool of red.
Sarasai, who'd been next to me, was gone, slipping around a guard, twisting a knife into him as she went.
My eyes flicked to the Rogue, and his eyes met mine.
Panic.