Chapter Two
Regret
The air whipped past him as the night engulfed him. His cloak flapped up either side of him. But just before he could plunge any farther he reached out his hands and gripped the wooden beam he knew would be there to catch him. Sure enough it held fast. Just in time as well. He heard rushed footsteps dash to the edge of the roof and he could tell many pairs of eyes were staring down to the dark alley below. He could tell the rest of the Knights had caught up just in time to see him fall. There were many mutters from each of the Knights all at once.
"Where did he go?"
"Is he down there?"
"Is he in the shadows?"
"He must be down there. There's no way anyone could have survived that fall, let alone get away so fast."
"But remember he has… well, you know…"
The voices fell silent and Emrys could tell they all knew what the Knight who had spoken was talking about. His magic. They dared not talk about it out here, when Emrys could still maybe be listening in. They would discuss it in the castle though. Although they would still fear it. But then Arthur's voice broke the silence.
"Well there's nothing we can do up here. Go back the way we came and find a way down to the streets. He must be hiding down there somewhere. We must search every shadow, you know how he likes hiding in the dark. Come on." Emrys heard a round of 'yes Sire's and then dragging footsteps travelling off in the opposite direction, back along the houses.
Emrys had given the Knights a while to find a way down from the rooftops and then scramble down to the safety of the ground. When he was confident they were down on the ground, and before they came jogging round the corner; ready to search the alley that he supposedly fell into, Emrys kicked off the wall of the building he was hanging off and swung himself back up to the roof. He straightened up, brushing himself down and looked out along the rooftops to make sure Arthur and his Knights had cleared off them. They had. The moon's light glistened down on the roofs and sparkled as it hit the smooth tiles. The night really was beautiful.
Emrys strolled along the rooftops and gazing round at the landscape that glimmered in the moon's shine. Tonight had been a good night. The thrill of Arthur and his men's chase never failed to excite him. He could remember how it all began like it was yesterday. It started with him just taking small things like food items from people's homes, under the cover of the night; and his trusty cloak of course. The people had started to notice his activities and had alerted Arthur that there was a thief in their midst. He of course went out that night with only two of his men to go searching for this new threat to Camelot. While Emrys had been on his nightly scavenge, Arthur and his men found him and gave chase. It was then that their real fear started. It was then that they found out about his magic. They had cornered him in an alley. They had grinned at his desperate attempts to escape, clawing at the walls, trying to find footholds in the walls of buildings, the terrified look on his face. He had been like a petrified mouse caught in a malicious cat's claws. He had been inexperienced back then, he had panicked. He had used his magic frantically, trying to escape and tried to blast Arthur and the men he had with him out of the way so he could escape. He had brought buildings to the ground and set fire to others. His magic had exploded out of him, his eyes glowing gold permanently in his panic. Arthur had been forced to retreat along with the only remaining man he had. The other had died. Emrys had killed him. In a terrible explosion of magic, that had been caused by him, Sir Delroy had been killed. Emrys hated himself for that night. But it hadn't been entirely his fault. He had been terrified. Arthur had laughed at his fear. That made him scared even more. But still, it was no excuse for what had happened. Despite this, he still ran around the streets stealing and robbing from the innocent and terrified citizens like he used to. Although, he never stole from the home of the family of Sir Delroy. He couldn't face it. Even a powerful sorcerer like he knew he was had a downfall. He always tried to push what had happened out of his mind. To try and rid his mind of the guilt. But it still niggled at the back of his mind like an annoying insect. Nevertheless, he couldn't move on from his thieving. He had nowhere else to go. He depended on the stolen goods he took. He had no money. Both his mother and his father had died when he was in his early teenage years. They had been an extremely poor family so he had been left no money. He had been forced to move to Camelot after his mother and father died as he was sure he have a fresh start in Camelot and would build back up his life easily. However, it had not been as easy as he thought it would have been. Instead of building his life up as just another respectable citizen of Camelot, he had grew into the Thief that he was now. The Thief. The fear. The danger. The unknown silhouette. Emrys.