Hey, guys! Welcome back to Hear a Tale! before we do anything else - reviews!
Thanks so much to CitrusChickadee for reviewing! I'm glad you enjoyed the Nobles' round in the spotlight! Now it's the Rogues' turn ;)
With that, on with the tale!
Relevant Events: Before Cyrus, H'aanit, Therion, and Primrose's Chapter Ones
4. Dark
…while others prosper in the dark.
()()()()
The scholar sat alone in the darkened library, the only source of light being the slowly fading lantern at his side. He hardly noticed the late hour or the diminishing light, absorbed as he was in the old tome sitting open on the table in front of him. His eyes were glued to the text, shifting only when he paused to scribble down some notes of his own on the roll of parchment he had brought with him.
In the back of his mind, he knew that he would regret burning the midnight oil when it was time to wake up in the morning, but such matters seemed little more than a trifle when weighed against the engrossing nature of his research. He loved teaching, and found it incredibly fulfilling to spread knowledge to the younger generation, but nothing quite compared to the thrill of taking learning into his own hands, quietly unraveling the mysteries of the world by dim lanternlight.
As much as he enjoyed conversing with others, the scholar still relished moments like this one, when the world fell silent and there was nothing to call his attention away from his research. His thoughts seemed to flow easier in the dark of the night, away from the bustle and distractions of daylight. Truthfully, if he hadn't had his teaching duties to contend with, he might have even considered becoming fully nocturnal, if only to further his pursuit of knowledge. Granted, only waking when everyone else went to sleep sounded like it would turn out to be quite lonely, so perhaps it was for the best that circumstances prevented him from seeking out that sort of lifestyle.
Still, he longed for the ability to devote more of his time to his studies, even if it was only temporary. There was only so much one could learn from a single, finite library, regardless of how extensive it was. In some cases, new knowledge could only be gleaned from actual research out in the field, rather than sitting around and poring over tomes for hours on end.
He exhaled deeply, finally leaning back and rubbing his tired eyes. Perhaps, someday soon, he would ask the headmaster for leave to journey out on a research expedition of his own. All he would have to do was select a suitable topic, then wait for the proper circumstances to make his request. Surely, such an opportunity would present itself sooner or later.
Until then, however, the scholar's long, quiet nights in the library would have to suffice.
()()()()
The hunter stepped carefully through the thick undergrowth of the forest, her snow leopard companion prowling beside her. The sun had not yet risen, and would not for another few hours. She would have to hurry - her quarry skulked about only at night, and could very well be lost if morning arrived before she could corner it.
Her breathing came evenly, unafraid despite the near-total darkness of the moonless night. The leopard at her side guided her movements, gently nudging her legs in the right direction and lightly chuffing every now and then to warn her of tangled roots or branches in her path. She listened carefully to the wilderness, noting the sounds of every rustle and step that were not hers.
Every move she made was cautious yet deliberate, just as her master had taught her. The darkness of the deep forest was equal parts a hunter's friend and foe. Though she could conceal herself more easily in its shadows, many beasts still, more often than not, possessed keener eyes than any human could claim. She was lucky in that her companion shared those advantages, but that was no reason to allow herself to drop her guard.
Suddenly, the snow leopard halted, her hackles rising and a low growl rising in her throat. The hunter stopped as well, silently pulling an arrow from her quiver. Her quarry was close.
She nocked the arrow, then pulled back her bowstring and waited, listening for the telltale sounds of a beast prowling through the undergrowth. Once, her master would have accompanied her on such a hunt, but she had not so much as heard from him for nearly a year. If she let herself pause to consider it, she might find herself missing his stalwart presence at her side, but as it stood, she had no time for such thoughts. She had no doubt that one day, she would see her master again. For now, her focus was firmly locked on the quiet swishing of brush growing steadily closer to her position.
The hunter loosed her arrow, sending it spiraling into the thick shadows where its prey hid.
()()()()
The thief knelt in the shadows, his single visible eye tracing his target's leisurely pace towards the alleyway that concealed him. A bulging coin purse swung from the nobleman's belt as he walked, blissfully unaware of the figure lurking just around the corner. The fool should have known better than to flaunt such wealth so close to the lower sector of Bolderfall.
No matter. The nobleman's folly would become the thief's fortune. He smirked, drawing the dagger he had coated with clay soil to prevent the blade from reflecting moonlight. Currently, only the very edge remained clean, a deadly sharp sliver of metal in the darkness. For this particular task, that was all he would need.
As his soon-to-be victim came closer, the thief readied himself, shrinking even lower into the shadows. His smaller stature was a blessing for many aspects of his profession, granting him the boons of light, soundless steps, exceptional speed, and an uncanny ability to avoid notice. As such, the nobleman walked straight by him without tossing so much as a glance in his direction. By the time he noticed that his purse strings had been cut, it was far too late.
Chuckling lightly to himself, the thief slunk away in the direction of the nearest tavern, clasping his newly acquired bag of coins to his chest beneath his shawl. With his free hand, he wiped the clay off of his dagger, flicking the thick soil away and sheathing the weapon once again at his hip. Truly, his skills in his trade were unmatched.
Just before descending the stairs leading down to the shadier part of town, he cast a glance towards a different staircase across the way, this one rising up a higher cliff face. If his sources were correct, there was a vast, supposedly impenetrable manor up there, full to bursting with hidden treasures and riches. Of course, "impenetrable" was a relative term for someone of his particular talents. If he could glean just a bit more information about the place from folks in the tavern, then that treasure was as good as his.
Steeling himself for the challenges ahead, the thief darted through the night towards his destination, already weaving together a plan.
()()()()
The dancer stood daintily upon the stage, letting the tension build for her audience as she remained perfectly still, waiting for the music to begin. The tavern was dark, lit only by tiny candles on each of the tables and the chandelier that hung above the stage. She was the only one in the building still bathed in light, and yet her eyes were shadowed, sweeping across the audience in search of someone, anyone, who bore the mark of the crow upon their skin.
Her search was in vain that night. None of them were present, as per usual. That meant that, once again, the only task she had to concern herself with for the foreseeable future was pleasing her audience - and more likely than not, in more ways than one. The less savory side of her profession would have to wait, however. For now, she would dance.
She inhaled slowly as the music began, lifting her arms above her head. The light pink silk scarf hooked to bangles on each of her wrists rippled out behind her as she moved, casting odd shadows on the stage beneath her. The dancer closed her eyes and forced a serene smile onto her face as she began her routine, gliding across the stage, twirling her scarf, and undulating her hips with carefully practiced grace.
She summoned magical energy from deep within, allowing wisps of darkness to flow from her fingertips and snake around her body as she danced. Such parlor tricks were mere cosmetic traces of what she could truly call forth, but they were enough to earn her the moniker of the "Deadly Desert Flower." Of course, there were few who even suspected how accurate the title might one day prove to be.
No matter what indignities she was forced to endure, no matter how many strange men she was expected to dance for and flirt with, she would never stop pushing forward until her revenge came to fruition at last. As long has she kept her ears open, her body strong, and her father's dagger sharpened, she would not fail. It was only a matter of time until she located her targets and gave them a show they would remember for the rest of their lives - but for now, her dance that night was drawing to a close.
The dancer finally came to a stop, bowing her head as the music died, the lights of the chandelier dimmed, and shadows engulfed the stage.
See you guys next week for Tale 5: Seeking Solace!