Prologue: Shadows.
Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne or Thief: the dark project.
AN: A strange concept I'll admit mixing a game and an anime but I thought I'd try it. Hopefully some of you will like it. :) Feel free to tell me what you think ^.^
Ye shall not rob
From the house that I have built,
Or commit any theft or
Unrighteousness,
Less ye be struck down and driven into the earth
Forthwith
And the land of the heathen
Consume you.
I was just a boy when the keepers found me, when I found them.
No home, no family, all I owned were the clothes on the back. How did I survive? A fair question and I suppose the answer is a simple one.
Thieving, stealing, pick pocketing. What ever you want to call it that is what I did, is what I do.
For someone as young as I was then the streets are not welcoming places. The murk and mist that are a constant presence in the old quarter of this city chill to the bone. Huge cracked and worn stone buildings loom over one from their unmoving places. Cracked and broken their faces glare at you through the shadowed fog.
Friends don't exist here. Strangers sure. Drunks, not a person here isn't one a least one night a week but friends, not a chance. As long as I can remember I have been alone, and I have come to favour it. As I was soon taught, 'The essence of balance is detachment.'
I remember the night I became a keeper all to clearly, huddled under a doorway I watched the passers by. It is a fact of all places; no one leaves his dwelling without money. I hadn't been waiting long when a man walked passed, people just passed him by as if he weren't there. In the end I figured he must have something valuable on him, why else would he sneak around, so I made a grab.
''That's not for you.''
I never did figure out how he caught my hand so easily. Towering over me, his hood concealing most of his face, he congratulated me on my skill then told me that if my wish was to escape this life that I should follow him.
Of course I refused it was an expected reaction; letting go of my hand he walked away. I caught him again just before he disappeared into the crowd.
''What is you name?'' He asked and I'll admit, I didn't hesitate to answer.
''Van.''
''Very well young Van lets us depart.''
It was to be the beginning of a long education. He was a keeper. One of those who thrived in shadow and were trained in the arts of the thief. I was seven when I entered their hands, seventeen when I left.
You see, as grateful as I was for the skills taught to me, the keepers were training me to be one of them, but I had other uses for their teachings. The folly of anger is a strong one and for some there is no escape, I am one of those unfortunate enough to have it consume them.
I will not lie; I left their hands in bad faith. They said I wasn't ready, that I had much to learn. I believe the term I used was 'go to hell.' Simple but always effective, especially when the hilt of your sword is in plain view.
I have not left the city of my instruction because of one straightforward and very understandable feeling.
Revenge.
Tonight I am ready, the lord of the largest manor in this upturned city is away, rumour has it that his personal guard have also left as his bodyguards. The night is ripe for a bit of larceny. I am to steal one of his most priced possessions, I may keep it, I may sell it. That, however, is of no consequence now. I have a map and I have a way in.
The front of the manor is guarded and the street is to exposed anyway. But an informant of mine has told me of a way in via a well that leads to the basement and the servant quarters. So I will wait for cover of darkness and then leave for the manor. Until then I have this nice bottle to keep me company.
Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne or Thief: the dark project.
AN: A strange concept I'll admit mixing a game and an anime but I thought I'd try it. Hopefully some of you will like it. :) Feel free to tell me what you think ^.^
Ye shall not rob
From the house that I have built,
Or commit any theft or
Unrighteousness,
Less ye be struck down and driven into the earth
Forthwith
And the land of the heathen
Consume you.
I was just a boy when the keepers found me, when I found them.
No home, no family, all I owned were the clothes on the back. How did I survive? A fair question and I suppose the answer is a simple one.
Thieving, stealing, pick pocketing. What ever you want to call it that is what I did, is what I do.
For someone as young as I was then the streets are not welcoming places. The murk and mist that are a constant presence in the old quarter of this city chill to the bone. Huge cracked and worn stone buildings loom over one from their unmoving places. Cracked and broken their faces glare at you through the shadowed fog.
Friends don't exist here. Strangers sure. Drunks, not a person here isn't one a least one night a week but friends, not a chance. As long as I can remember I have been alone, and I have come to favour it. As I was soon taught, 'The essence of balance is detachment.'
I remember the night I became a keeper all to clearly, huddled under a doorway I watched the passers by. It is a fact of all places; no one leaves his dwelling without money. I hadn't been waiting long when a man walked passed, people just passed him by as if he weren't there. In the end I figured he must have something valuable on him, why else would he sneak around, so I made a grab.
''That's not for you.''
I never did figure out how he caught my hand so easily. Towering over me, his hood concealing most of his face, he congratulated me on my skill then told me that if my wish was to escape this life that I should follow him.
Of course I refused it was an expected reaction; letting go of my hand he walked away. I caught him again just before he disappeared into the crowd.
''What is you name?'' He asked and I'll admit, I didn't hesitate to answer.
''Van.''
''Very well young Van lets us depart.''
It was to be the beginning of a long education. He was a keeper. One of those who thrived in shadow and were trained in the arts of the thief. I was seven when I entered their hands, seventeen when I left.
You see, as grateful as I was for the skills taught to me, the keepers were training me to be one of them, but I had other uses for their teachings. The folly of anger is a strong one and for some there is no escape, I am one of those unfortunate enough to have it consume them.
I will not lie; I left their hands in bad faith. They said I wasn't ready, that I had much to learn. I believe the term I used was 'go to hell.' Simple but always effective, especially when the hilt of your sword is in plain view.
I have not left the city of my instruction because of one straightforward and very understandable feeling.
Revenge.
Tonight I am ready, the lord of the largest manor in this upturned city is away, rumour has it that his personal guard have also left as his bodyguards. The night is ripe for a bit of larceny. I am to steal one of his most priced possessions, I may keep it, I may sell it. That, however, is of no consequence now. I have a map and I have a way in.
The front of the manor is guarded and the street is to exposed anyway. But an informant of mine has told me of a way in via a well that leads to the basement and the servant quarters. So I will wait for cover of darkness and then leave for the manor. Until then I have this nice bottle to keep me company.