Crimson Twilight: Dusk

Chapter 26: Steel and shadow

After their meal, Eliarainne and Makaelthos left Baelthran's at the same time. Once more, Eliarainne took full blast of the jealous stares that Silmeia's acolytes gave her. More to amuse herself with their reactions than any actual anger, she glared at them. Frightened, one of them even yelped, the acolytes turned away. Even battle-hardened knights were known to squirm under the First Knight Commander's glare. Smiling inwardly; she turned to face her partner. Makaelthos probably didn't even notice to poor girls who were showering him with hidden affection. "Off to bed, Makaelthos?" She asked.

Makaelthos shook his head wearily in response. Eliarainne always did admire his habit of finishing all of his duties, no matter how trivial, before resting. She sometimes wondered how he had the patience for these things. "I still have to make a report at the cathedral. It could take a while." He explained.

Eliarainne nodded and parted ways with her partner before reaching the knights' barracks. She also had some things to do before going to bed. She went to the stables first, where her mount was waiting. Bristle was still saddled just in case an attack came and he had to be rested and fed for the possibility of a battle the following day. Then she had to inspect and maintain her equipment.

"Good evening, Miss Sialsanderin." A deep, rasping voice suddenly spoke from behind her.

Eliarainne stopped as soon as she heard the name. She was known through many names and titles in Prontera and her relationships determined who used what name. Her friends, and only her friends, called her "Rainne", except Makaelthos who stuck with "Eliarainne". He was probably the only person, save her father, who called her that. Her men called her "First Knight Commander Sialsanderin" to her face and then talked about their "war goddess" when they thought she wasn't listening. Some would call her "Dame Sialsanderin", people who may not see her as a leader of men but respected that she was a knight. "Miss Sialsanderin" grated on her nerves. "Miss Sialsanderin" did not acknowledge her as a Knight Commander or even just a knight. It was impersonal and irreverent at the same time, only used by acquaintances of her father; people who didn't know her at all except as Cafilex's daughter, people who were likely to end their encounter with her with some sort of injury.

"I'll kill him! I'll lay him on the ground…gut him and kill him!"

The memory of her own threat against the arrogant merchant surprised even Eliarainne. Did she really even say that? She was so angry at that moment that all of a sudden she just went berserk. A moment after that, she was already holding halberd. She turned to face the one who called her. A glare and a brief berating will probably do for now. She was rather tired herself. "And who the hell are you?" She demanded.

Even as Eliarainne asked the question, the man's appearance became all too familiar to her. The gray skin, the color of a long dead corpse, immediately told her that she wasn't facing something human. The bony spikes that protruded from the man's shoulders and arms, as well as the pair of katars strapped to his hands were clearer signs of his true nature. "An injustice." She growled. Already her hands reached for a weapon. Even Makaelthos would agree that there was no peaceful settlement when dealing with the degenerate "humans" of Glastheim's ruins. "What foul business do you have here in Prontera, monster?"

The injustice smiled toothily and glanced at the black and purple band he wore on his left arm. The answer was simple; NightKnife. Eliarainne's hand went to the lance resting on Bristle's saddle. The pecopeco's feathers rose at the monster's unnatural presence. Bristle did not shy away from potential enemies. He was a big male; likely the leader of a large flock if he was in the wild and he had faced many foes while serving as the First Knight Commander's mount. Injustices were a degenerate race of humans who lived in Glastheim's ruins. They were evil, sadistic and had a fascination with murder. They were also infamous for their speed, power and prowess, often making them qualified as assassins. All of that didn't matter. Bristle was trained for war and would run into a wall of barbed pikes if his mistress commanded it.

"Business? What business do all injustice have, Miss Sialsanderin?" The injustice spoke. "Murder is my eternal business and, tonight, the client is you!" He was about twenty feet from Eliarainne when he said those words. The last word had barely finished when he had already crossed that distance. His katars flashed dangerously close to her neck but she was also quick to react. She leaped onto her mount; dodging the strike and then swung her lance. Her attack whistled past the side of the injustice's face; nearly skewering his head.

"You're good, knight." The injustice rasped as it crouched low, ready for another attack. "It takes uncanny reflexes to survive my initial attack."

Eliarainne's eyes narrowed. There was nothing uncanny about her reflexes. It came from years of dealing with assassins, rogues and all sorts of professions that used sudden attack as their main weapon. A sting was nothing new to her. "Don't flatter yourself, injustice." She spat. "I've killed more assassins than your guild has members. It will take more than just speed to take me out!" She urged Bristle forward; causing the pecopeco to dash towards her opponent. The injustice sidestepped the charge and slashed at her shield arm with his katars. She ignored the blades as she dashed past the injustice. Her armor absorbed most of the impact; causing the injustice's attack to deal only a minor scratch.

The injustice laughed. "Running from Creivil? I thought the famous First Knight Commander ran from no one!" He crowed after her.

Eliarainne stopped as soon as she reached the center of the street. At this time of night, the streets were deserted. The patrols were positioned near the walls while the knights inside the barracks were either asleep or on duty near the city gates. The street lights were not fire but globes of light created by Prontera's acolytes. They illuminated everything in soft, white-blue. The lights were spaced enough for plenty of shadows in-between however. "Running?" Eliarainne answered as she pointed her lance at the injustice. "I'd say I have you were I want, Creivil."

Creivil laughed harshly and readied his katars. Some of Eliarainne's blood dripped from them. He grinned and slowly licked the blood from the blades. His toothy mouth smacked with anticipation. "You're surrounded by shadows, knight." He taunted. "And we're in a wide open space. I can take full advantage of the surroundings to finish you off easily!"

Eliarainne smiled grimly. "You have no concept of terrain, do you?" She answered. "There's more to our differences than who's faster or slower and there's more to the terrain than shadows." With that, Eliarainne charged; her lance positioned to kill on impact. Bristle's clawed feet made little noise against the paved streets of Prontera without its steel-tipped claws attached.

Creivil grinned and met the charge. He laughed harshly once more as he sidestepped his opponent's thrust. "All I'm hearing is the last words of another dead knight!" He crowed in triumph as he moved in to attack the knight's exposed side. He paused briefly; suddenly realizing that something was wrong with the exchange. By that time though it was too late. 'That thrust was too shallow, that means-!' The thought didn't even finish in his mind when the consequences of rushing in showed themselves.

Eliarainne recovered from her initial thrust at a speed Creivil did not expect her to have. She thrust again; an expert twist from the hip brought the force of her body shooting straight for the single point at the end of her lance. With no time to evade, the injustice raised his katars for a cross-block. Her lance's sharpened tip shattered his left katar and punched a hole through his chest. Black liquid, Eliarainne wasn't sure and she didn't care otherwise if it was crimson turned black by the moonlight or really black, spattered onto the stone pavement. Eliarainne withdrew the weapon and kicked the injustice aside as she rode past him.

Without so much as a squawk, Bristle turned around swiftly and was ready for another charge. Creivil stared, first, at his broken katar and then to the gaping hole on the left part of his chest. Eliarainne kept her guard up. An enemy was dangerous as long as he remained alive. "Where you are, Creivil, is on a Pronteran street." She answered grimly. She relished battle not killing. The battle was already over and Eliarainne settled into the grim business of having to kill this assassin. "You are facing an armed, armored and mounted knight on unfamiliar open ground where she can use her mobility, momentum and knowledge of the current terrain to full advantage. Faced with such odds, your speed and shadows mean nothing."

The injustice raised his one katar. He was no longer grinning though. Victory seemed so unsure all of a sudden. "All you managed to do was catch me off guard with a feint, knight! This one katar will be all I need!" He mocked her; trying to steal her moment of victory.

Without another word, Eliarainne charged again. The injustice was about to evade but she was coming at him at full speed and, with his injury slowing him down, he could only block. As both of them expected, the combination of momentum, higher ground, weapon size, superior strength and mastery of the lance shattered the remaining katar like so much glass. The lance whipped about; striking his face with the shaft of the weapon.

The injustice tumbled to the ground; his head banging against stone. When he stood up, his face was covered in blood and his hair, gray like his skin, was caked with the dark liquid. He held his open wound, trying to stanch the flow of blood. Injustices were unnaturally hardy. So long as he was not killed instantly he could survive even this. He stared at the knight warily, wondering why he hadn't been killed instantly. "Heh…you could have killed me with that blow, knight." He said. "Why hold back?"

Eliarainne lowered her lance before answering. It was true that, a few years ago; she would have just killed this assassin, looted his weapons and then forgot about him in a few days. Years spent as Makaelthos's partner had ingrained in her the habit of occasionally trying to find other uses for her enemies besides trophies. "Because you're coming with me, injustice." She answered. "I'm going to pump every inch of useful information you have out of you."

The injustice eyed the knight warily. He had to respect the sheer fighting power of this woman…this knight. He had underestimated her greatly but he could not afford to get caught.

"If you need information about my guild, knight, talk to me." Someone spoke just a short distance away from the two.

Eliarainne turned to face the voice. She didn't even need to do that though. The voice was easily recognizable from its sinister and feminine quality, like the soft hiss of a snake that tried to reassure but only warned of how dangerous it was. "You're Trynis Eviskrae, guild mistress of NightKnife." She simply said.

Trynis nodded. The soft blue light of the ruwach spells seemed to catch around her hair, making it shimmer a silvery blue. "And you must be Eliarainne Sialsanderin, the famous or should I say, infamous commander of the First Knight Division." She replied. "They call you "war goddess", knight. I can see why." She cast a brief glance at the injured Creivil, who immediately backed into the darkness.

Eliarainne directed her weapon at the rogue. This was a chance to finally bring in the leader of NightKnife. She knew little of the guild save for the few hints Makaelthos or Khaesilya dropped on rare occasions. She did know that neither of the two enjoyed being hounded by this guild and that Rune-Midgard was better off with one criminal guild less. "Perhaps you'd like to feel why as well." She replied. "Since you're willing to take Creivil's place, I'll be bringing you in instead."

Trynis shook her head disapprovingly. Contempt dripped from her voice when she spoke again. "Mindlessly violent like a raydric...What Mak sees in you, I can never tell."

Eliarainne's eyes narrowed. The way Trynis referred to her partner as "Mak" was somehow infuriating. She was always afraid of using that name because she wasn't sure of how Makaelthos could react. She didn't want to upset him by being presumptuous but- "You sound like you know everything about Makaelthos!" She answered.

Trynis smiled at the response. Jealousy stuck out of the knight's words like arrows from a corpse. The thought made her angry as well. It was clear now that this knight wanted Makaelthos for herself. "But I do." She taunted. "I know everything about him, even how he fares at…certain things."

Eliarainne seethed at Trynis's hinting. She could understand why Makaelthos had stayed for so long with this woman though. She would be beautiful to his standards. Her smooth, tanned skin accentuated her luxurious silver hair. Trynis's eyes were a pale green, soft in contrast to Makaelthos's bright ones. They also caught the light from the ruwachs and glittered. Besides, she did seem to have been especially close to Makaelthos before. Eliarainne felt a twinge inside her chest; she dismissed it though. Now was not the time to think of such things. Instead, she managed to muster a smile. One taunt deserved another. "But that didn't stop him from leaving did it?" She shot back.

Trynis's smile disappeared and for a moment, a very quick moment, she felt an angry retort coming. In a flash, the impulse was quashed. She did not like this woman one bit. This Eliarainne Sialsanderin was as plain as a cardboard box, with hair the color of dry sand and greenish eyes yellowed like a disease. This knight was headstrong and violent; a blundering cow wearing metal for a hide and with brains as thick as the muscles of her arms. To think that Makaelthos valued this woman beyond using her as bait or as a wall to catch a hail of arrows tested her patience and few things could do that. A second more and she was fully composed again. "A well-put remark." She answered. "But I didn't come here to exchange barbs with you, Eliarainne."

Eliarainne's eyes narrowed again. "Fine, what do you want then?" She asked.

Trynis's voice changed from contemptuous and silky to icy and menacing. "What I want, knight, is you dead." She hissed. "I want you lying in a pool of your own blood while staring at me. I want you to try to gasp out a dying word but fail to do so because of a slit throat. I want to be there, gloating at you with the bloody knife in hand. I want to put my ear close to your face and listen to you die helplessly."

Eliarainne's grip on her lance tightened. She had heard a lot of rogues and assassins threaten her before. She usually dismissed them as bluster or a weak attempt to intimidate her to lower her guard. It had never worked before except this time. A shiver ran down her spine when Trynis spoke those words. The rogue's presence alone projected intense and sinister killing power. Even Bristle, who could match the stares of a pack of hungry wolves, squawked nervously. "And what's stopping you from trying?" She asked.

Trynis smiled sadly as she answered. The menace disappeared from her voice. "Because Mak would hate me for that and that's something I could never live with." She said softly. "So I have to settle for the next best thing."

Eliarainne raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Trynis smiled; took a step back and promptly vanished into the shadows. Before Eliarainne could even think of looking for her, Trynis was already behind her, knife in hand. "Makaelthos belongs to me alone, knight." She whispered. "I want you to stay away from him so he can go back to being a NightKnife master."

Eliarainne felt the dagger slip between the plates of her armor and bite into her flesh. Furious at the sudden assault, she whipped about and grabbed the rogue's hand. Trynis quickly moved her hand away but Eliarainne had feinted. Her hand changed direction; backhanding the rogue on the face. Trynis jumped back and wiped the blood on her lip. The knight's armored fist had gashed her cheek. Eliarainne spurred her mount forward. The rogue merely smiled once more and vanished into the shadows. Eliarainne felt around the wound on her left side. The dagger had not struck anything vital and the wound was not that deep. Trynis's attack was not meant to be lethal but the message it sent was clear.

"Makaelthos goes where he wants, Trynis Eviskrae." Eliarainne growled after the shadows. "I'm not letting you or your guild stop him.' She was about to return to the stables when he caught a familiar scent waft her way. 'Smoke? Where's it coming from?' Eliarainne scanned the buildings around her. Smoke meant a very bad thing now. At once she caught sight of the burning building as it illuminated the evening sky. 'That's the main pronteran church!'

"I still have to make a report at the cathedral. It could take a while…"

Eliarainne rode to cathedral at full speed.

Trynis Eviskrae watched from atop a building as the cathedral church started burning. The flames were a dangerous sign to her. She had no knowledge of any act of arson directed at the Pronteran Church. What clues she had included the reports about the presence of free-lancing assassin by the name of Maiha Il-Xalascent. She turned to face the cadre of assassins behind her. "Keep an eye on this Maiha Il-Xalascent." She ordered them. "I want you to report any more free-lancing activities to me. Also send someone to investigate what happened to the cathedral. As for you Creivil…" Trynis turned to face the injured injustice. "You will be severely punished for disobeying my orders and attacking Eliarainne Sialsanderin. Be thankful that you failed. This punishment will be heaven compared to what I would have done to you had you succeeded."

Creivil nodded meekly. "I thank you for your mercy, guild mistress."

Trynis signalled for them to leave.

'Eliarainne Sialsanderin, I will get you out of my way.'

She walked away thinking of ways to murder a knight.

World Notes

Ruwach – Ruwach is one of the basic acolyte spells. It summons a globe of bluish-white light which illuminates with the strength of two torches. The caster can move it about in a short range. A ruwach lasts until it is dismissed or after twelve hours. Prontera's acolytes have districts assigned for them to light with their spells. Unlike the mage spell, Sight, Ruwach's light does not come from actual flames.

In game explanation – unlike in the game. This fic's ruwach does not damage hide characters and will only reveal them in the same way as shining a light on someone hiding in the shadows reveals people.

Sting – stings are assassins who specialize in using katars which are lighter than daggers. Assassins who prefer daggers are called fangs.