Chapter 15

Robbing a noble's estate with an angel at the brain age of 7 as your partner in crime sounded like a terrible idea, but thankfully Lyndon was above such petty concerns.

The estate was pretty much impossible to miss once they walked some thirty minutes from the village's borders. It was located on a small island in the middle of a river that barely qualified for the title, it was so narrow. Two drawbridges led to either banks, and the entire island was built in, the stone walls following its shores faithfully. It couldn't be for sure, but Lyndon guessed the inner courtyard was wide and empty, with only a few smaller houses pushed against the tall walls: the residence, the chapel, the stables and other service buildings. This estate looked old enough to be built in the old-fashioned way.

Lyndon and Quiet hid in a nearby small patch of trees and bushes that so far survived the noble's building and furniture-carving orders.

- Leendonn, what we do? – the little angels asked, small and weak wings fluttering from excitement.

- What will we do – Lyndon corrected him. – First, we will wait for the night. Then, when it is dark, we are going to sneak inside, past all the guards and other people. We will find the little box the noble keeps all of his money in, then we grab it and leave. Sounds good?

- We—wa—will they no see us?

- If we are clever and fast, they won't. But we will need to be very quiet and careful. You will need to keep your wings hidden.

Immediately the tendrils of red-yellow light disappeared under the cape and Quiet eagerly jumped up and down.

- Adventure! – he chirped happily.

- It is going to be fun – Lyndon grinned at him. – But for now, I say we take a nap. There is still some time until sunset.

- Do no want to sleep – Quiet mumbled, no doubt puffing up his invisible cheeks.

- How about we read, hm? – Lyndon asked nonchalantly, lying down on his makeshift bed and pulling out Cain's codex.

Quiet happily snuggled up to him to that offer, curiously blinking at the pages that flipped fast before his eyes.

- Imperius, Archangel of Valor – Lyndon snorted. – Oh this guy. I just llllove this guy.

- Imperius baadd?

- Not bad like a demon, but yes, he is very annoying. And angry, like, all the time.

And a total ungrateful piece of shit, to be honest.

- Why izz he angry?

- Not sure. He was probably born this way.

- Annoying – Quiet agreed after a moment of thinking before he fell silent, listening to the book.

Lyndon purposefully read in a soothing voice that got lower and lower as time went by, and before long the small angel, who definitely did not want to sleep a moment ago, was snoring softly, head resting on the scoundrel's chest. Satisfied that his master plan worked, Lyndon patted the white hair, gazing over at the tall walls in the distance, making mental preparations for the heist ahead.

oooOOOooo

Normally, obstacles such at the river would have made things much, much harder.

Abnormally, Lyndon had teleportation, so he didn't really care.

He held Quiet close to his chest as he envisioned himself in the stable (every stable looked the same, surely he could manage that), crouched in some deep shadow. He closed his eyes, feeling the familiar (but still a bit unsettling) "lurching forward" sensation.

They landed in a hay cart with loud rustling, and Lyndon had to bite down on a curse while simultaneously clamping a hand on Quiet's mouth to stop him from crying out in alarm. He missed the target, of course he did.

How the hell did I do it in the pub? he mused angrily as he carefully peeked out from their uncomfortably itchy hideout. Sure enough, they were on one end of the courtyard while that damned stable, housing six horses was opposite of them, some good 20 meters away. As Lyndon was about to chide himself for being such a clutz, he heard voices and two young stable boys walked out of the building, dragging pitchforks with themselves. Oh… they would have run into them, had they arrived according to plan. Lyndon slightly changed his opinion, though he was still from content: this damned hay rustled to every little movement, getting out of here without raising attention was nigh-impossible.

I should teleport again, he thought, already hating the idea.

Yet there wasn't really a better option. He could barely see anything from this spot, couldn't tell where the guards and others were. So he concentrated on the stable and angrily demanded to go there. Lurching forward again, and…

The air was knocked out of his lungs as he landed with a thud on the roof of the damned building, rolling down on its slope until he smacked into the wall that rose just a few centimeters beyond its gutter.

- Son of a bitch – he muttered angrily, but quickly clamped his mouth shut as he heard a shout in the darkness.

Above them by a couple meters, a barely visible silhouette leaned over the wall's parapet: a patrolling guard no doubt, looking straight at them. Lyndon froze to his place, staring back at the man but not daring to move. For a long minute, nothing happened. Then the guard pulled back, muttering something about "stupid birds". Lyndon let out a shaky breath he hadn't realize he was holding. Surely, the shadows saved his life. He raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair, but stopped as it passed before his eyes.

His skin was red.

Quite literally, his hand was as red as the tiles that covered the roof, it even had patches that resembled moss and dirt. Snapping his head up, Lyndon saw his entire body, with the coat, the trousers and everything else, in the same mismatch of colors. Just as he was about to panic however, a ripple ran across him (even though he felt nothing) and his "normal" coloring returned.

- What the heeeeelll? – he breathed.

Was this another weird power? Did he really need more things to feel different about?! Really?!

Quiet hummed something and the scoundrel finally released him, apologizing in hushed tones. The small angel hung onto his coat as Lyndon carefully pushed himself up and climbed off the roof, causing minimal noise along the way. He could work with roofs very well. Hay stacks, not so much.

Once on the ground, they swooped from the shadow of the stable to the shadow of some hovel that was either some storage thing, or a home to a servant. Honestly, it could be either way, especially considering the supposed infamousness of this noble. Lyndon kept an eye on their surroundings as they snuck around and he counted over a dozen guards on the walls around. All of them faced outwards, and they were clearly putting much faith into the river surrounding them: apart from the small torches along the top of the wall, there was no large light inside the courtyard that could easily reveal them. There was a small group of four guards patrolling before the residence, but other than that, nothing.

Good.

Lyndon and Quiet got as close to the home as possible without being seen. They hid behind an empty cart that had a broken wheel.

- Alright, now – Lyndon softly whispered to Quiet –, you remain here, okay? I will sneak inside that big building over there, then come out with the box of money. You will stay here, silent and don't let them see you, alright?

- Kvaiet – Quiet nodded, poking at his own chest.

He had learnt the meaning of his name well.

- I'll be back soon – Lyndon gently kissed him on the top of his head, then peeked out and swooped out from behind a cart like a bat when the patrol was facing the other direction.

He could feel Quiet's gaze on him, and he figured he could show some example to his charge.

Right, example. Sure.

Lyndon quickly snuffed out the slight guilt in himself. Everyone needed a hobby, okay?! And it wasn't like losing a couple hundred gold would really hurt this noble, other than annoy him. Who knows, this sneaking around might save Quiet's life one day. Angels were always loud and obvious beings. Imperius was obnoxious and even a blind and deaf person could easily locate him, Tyrael carried a glowing sword, Itherael a glowing scroll. Even Malthael with his own pale wings had been really hard to miss, conjuring up a dark twister of Evil Evilness around himself whenever he appeared to "check" on Johanna's progress in Westmarch. And his lackey, Urzael screamed so loudly it could be heard throughout all of the city, plus he opened with setting an entire district on fire.

So yes, clearly the High Heavens did not teach subtlety to its denizens. This skill will be useful for Quiet later on.

Yeah, keep justifying it.

Lyndon bared his teeth a little as he hid in some bushes that grew next to the residence, as a part of a smaller garden. He made sure the patrol was still not looking this way before rounding the corner. His hands quickly began picking at the wooden wings of the window, professionally feeling out the weak mechanisms behind it. Heh, forcing these open would be a—

- Hey!

Immediately, Lyndon threw himself back behind the corner the millisecond he heard the shout, ducking under the bush again. Crap, the patrol turned around faster than he first anticipated!

- You saw something?

- I think I did!

- What, another bird?

- It was much bigger than that.

Damn.

Lyndon took a deep breath then forced himself to breathe in complete silence, becoming absolutely still under the leaves' covers. He dimly registered his hand taking up the pattern of the bush but he didn't dare to move his eyes either. He knew from experience that right now he had to keep still, no matter how close the guards would draw. Maybe this unsettling camouflage thing will help too.

The good news was that the patrol was clearly not certain about what they saw and they approached hesitantly.

- I think it went this way.

- I still think it was only a bird.

- I'm telling you, it was much larger!

Lyndon fought the urge to roll his eyes. Come on, get on with it! Finally, a guard rounded the corner, looking uncertainly over the garden. He reached forward with his pike and brushed a couple of leaves out of the way with its blade. It drew unnervingly close to Lyndon but the scoundrel remained calm and still, trusting in the darkness and (by necessity) in his newly found power. Any minute now, and they would give up searching.

- Anything? – came the question.

Instead of answering, however, the guard let out a blood-curling scream as the ground from under his feet erupted and he was impaled by a lance of sheer steel. Blood splashed everywhere as his abdomen was mangled, but Lyndon froze to his spot at the sight, unable to process the horror.

A fraction of a second later, the rest of the patrol followed their unfortunate member. Their screams of death rang across the entire estate and soon every window of every house lit up with lights and the guards atop the walls began running towards the stairs, beholding the horror down below. Shouting filled the air, alarms were raised. Lyndon threw himself out of the bush and ran back to the cart in plain sight.

Behind the vehicle, Quiet stared at the freshly killed patrol with angrily blazing red eyes, one finger still pointing towards them.

- Quiet, what are you—?! – Lyndon shouted as he reached for his charge.

- HALT! – barked a guard from above them.

Wiping his head upwards, Lyndon just had enough time to see the man shooting an arrow at them. The bolt, however, turned right around and flew into his own head, knocking him back.

Cold terror flooding him, Lyndon crashed Quiet against his chest and demanded that they get out of here, to safety, he didn't care where!

Rushing forward, then landing in knee deep water with a splash, almost falling over. Lyndon regained his footing and ran as fast as he could, dimly recognizing the patch of trees they camped during the day.

- Quiet, what have you done?! Why have you done it?! – he shouted, holding the little angel close.

- Bad men! – Quiet retorted angrily. – Wanted to hurt you! I stop them!

- No, damnit, no! They wouldn't have found me! They didn't need to die!

- Yes! Yes! They ugly! They are badd!

Not even thinking, Lyndon roughly set Quiet down on the ground, stuffing everything into his backpack with panicked urgency.

- Quiet, we do not kill unless we have to! We are not monsters! – he boomed at his charge, hauling the backpack onto his back.

- They are monsters! – Quiet argued. – Mistakes! Bad! They had to di—

*SLAP!*

A sudden deafening silence.

Quiet and Lyndon stared at each other, then the angel broke out in tears and wailed, small hands flying to his stinging cheek. The scoundrel gasped, realizing what he had done, and tried to haul him up into his arms. Quiet struggled, pushed against his chest with his hands, feet kicking the hips as he cried, volume rising rapidly.

- Quiet, we need to go! Now! – Lyndon shouted over the wailing and despite the protests, he held him firmly in his embrace.

He started running, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the massacre as possible.


Man, we just can't have nice things for long in Diablo, can we?

I guess I leave the larger "update news" to this second chapter. Feel free to read on below!

So with the basic storyline pinned down for Act II, I can bravely venture into another series of weird and downright dumbass adventures, and I hope you will enjoy the ride as well. ;) If the story actually stretches out that far, I'll have a special treat planned for April 1st, so look forward to that. Considering the fact that I have school work and other shit along the way, I believe it is a pretty reachable goal. I've also planned for a couple of old (some REALLY old) faces to show up, one of them being Tyrael finally, wheee! :D Actually, I got so into planning, that Act III is starting to already take shape pretty well, so perhaps there won't be as large of a hiatus between them, as was between Act I and Act II. Anyway, enough of that rambling.

Thank you all for your patience and here's to another great journey! ^^ Reviews and constructive criticism is of course always welcome!

That is all, cupcakes. Take care, and keep being awesome!