Well, that's it. This is the final chapter for this story. I do, however, enjoy telling Jason's story and will most likely do another one for him at some point in the future. Brent Weeks owns all Night Angel content.
The world rushed by as Jason ran. Like an arrow loosened from a bow, he raced towards his target, scattering the fearful crowds in his wake. The wyrm's rampage had provided the perfect distraction and the Khalidorians were too busy fighting the beast to protect their precious God-King. Jason sprang up a nearby wall and continued his mad flight across the upper balconies to avoid the swelling throng of terrified spectators and bellowing soldiers. A deafening roar sounded in the distance as he leapt from a hole in the wall to land atop one of the surrounding houses, kicking the guard stationed there to the ground below. He crouched down to one knee and scanned the scene before him. The situation was almost as bad as inside the stadium, as people fell to be crushed underfoot by the mass exodus. He quickly spotted an island forming inside the sea of people, as soldiers beat people back from the God King's personal carriage. They couldn't hope to turn the tide alone however, and their progress was slow. Jason smiled and picked up the crossbow the guard had dropped before he'd fallen to the ground below, a plan forming in his blood-drunk mind.
Jason shifted impatiently on the branch he was lying in wait on; the tree was perfectly overlooking the simple dirt road that connected the God King's palace and the arena he had escaped from. As he waited he wondered why there was a sparse forest surrounding the palace from the rest of the city, it was perfect for an ambush. In fact, it was perfect for what he was about to do, and he pondered why the God King would take such a risk. "Maybe he believes in his own invincibility" Jason thought to himself, and the thought amused him. "He's going to get a shock in a bit then." The whinnying of horses snapped him back into focus and he tensed in anticipation. The God King's carriage came into view, surrounded by a meager handful of guards. Jason took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The crossbow shuddered as the bolt whipped towards its target and embedded itself in the leg of the right-side horse pulling the God King's carriage. The animal stumbled and fell, causing the carriage to roll and skid across the road. Jason reloaded and fired methodically until all the guards, dazed by the suddenness of the attack, fell dead from their saddles. After the last man hit the floor, he exhaled deeply and dropped out of the tree. He walked over to the fallen carriage and the screaming horses, using a sword from one of the dead guards to end the animal's suffering as quickly as he could. A shuffling sound caught his attention and he saw a figure crawling towards the distant palace. He walked slowly and deliberately towards the prone figure as the God King noticed him and pulled a dagger from his robes. Jason kicked it away and plunged the sword into the man's chest, watching with sadistic satisfaction as the light left the God King's eyes. Suddenly a woman's voice, delicate and timid, hit him with crystal clarity, "Jason?" He turned to see Tamara standing in the middle of the dirty track, her dress torn and a few cuts marring her face and hands from the glass windows shattering when the carriage fell. He didn't speak; instead he stooped, and without haste, picked up the dagger.
He saw her eyes widen and she backed away in shock as he approached her. She hit the broken shell of the carriage and gasped in alarm as he closed with her, separated by a hair's breadth and held the dagger to her chest, hovering above her heart. She closed her eyes and waited to feel the cold steel cut her flesh, but it never came. His words were soft and quiet as he spoke, "You made your bed; you should have to lie in it. I should kill you." In a sudden burst of motion, he drew his arm back and thrust the dagger savagely in the wooden shell of the carriage, inches from Tamara's head. She recoiled from the violent action, but recovered swiftly, and whispered softly "I love you." A tear welled up in her eye as he uttered "As do I. Always have, always will." He kissed her gently and broke it lightly, before turning to leave. Tamara watched silently as he mounted a horse and rode off towards the city.
"Dear Gwen, I hope this letter finds you well. These past few months have been arduous, but the job is complete. I am currently en route back to Cenaria and would appreciate a bottle of whiskey and a handful of your best girls waiting for me when I get there. I assume you've also got another job waiting for me; there is no rest for the wicked it seems. The journey shouldn't be more than a few weeks more; I'll talk to you at some point after I get back. Jason." He read the letter twice more before attaching it to a raven's foot and releasing the bird from the deck of the ship he had paid to return to Cenaria upon. He glanced back at the distant shadow of Khalidor, dark and foreboding in the pre-dawn gloom, thoughts of Tamara filling his mind. With a growl, he pushed them to the back of his mind where they would lie only temporarily, resurfacing during moments of lax concentration and sleep, plaguing him with cruel reminders that he would never be with the woman he loved. The heart aching moment passed and he stood at the bow of the ship, looking towards the faraway horizon and the radiant, rising sun.