Private Tales A Thief in the Night

[Fife]

Why Raigryn was asking, she wasn't going to find out presently. Two riders approached from the dark road ahead, and she and he both seemed to notice the sound of their hooves at the same time.

Fife inhaled sharply as a firm hand grabbed her by the shoulder and steered her off the path, positioning her behind him in the grass. Her boot squelched in some mud, and she took a few balancing steps diagonally. The wilderness wasn't a terrain she was neither familiar with nor fond of, and she mentally recoiled against the muck, but she used the moment to draw her little knife from her boot. Better to have it than not need it than to need it and not have it, she surmised. She gripped the handle in her palm and held the cheek of the blade flush to her forearm, out of sight.

The riders drew near and called out to them, and Raigryn countered them with another question. Fife eyed the sword on his back, wondering if she was removed enough for him to draw it if needed. She didn't trust people, much less in the middle of nowhere at night when her nerves were already riled.

// Raigryn Vayd //

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"I'm on a horse, you're not, and I'm asking," replied the man. Raigryn noted the loaded crossbow sitting across the lap of his companion. The bolt was being pointed out into the fields right now.

"Just a man and his apprentice heading back to the city walls."

"From that estate back there?"

"Indeed," there was no way to give a different answer convincingly.

You ever hear anyone singing scales? He'd asked Fife. It's like that. Eight notes in an octave - that's what oct means - eight aspects in Empathy. You flip through them one at a time and feel how loud they sing, how much you have stored.

Raigryn drew from his Malice and placed a curse on the crossbow. Fife might just feel a the magical flow. Darker than Avarice, like a dark cloud that now hung over the cursed item.

"What did the old many have you write?"

Raigryn shifted ever so slightly such that he could draw the sword more easily. "Ah, you see the tools of my trade." They couldn't. "He had a requisition form to be finished, but I'm afraid that's his business and you would need to ask him directly."

"Turn out your bags."

Raigryn took a step forwards. He slid the bag from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor next to himself.

"Fife: do me a favour and run back to the house for me. I think I left some quills there. Turn, run and keep going until you get there." He turned to look at her, expression set in stone. His gaze flicked down to the knife and back up. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a brief smile. "Go on now boy," he said far more softly.

 

[Fife]

She watched the exchange nervously, and when the questioning became specific in regards to the house, Fife looked anxiously at Raigryn. Suddenly she was glad he wasn't a stuffy old scholar if this had something to do with what he'd been asking her earlier.

She didn't like this -- didn't like the magic she felt and saw him casting, or how casually Raigryn stepped forward and put down his bag; she didn't like his hard expression as he veiled the command to run, or the way he smiled for a moment when he seemed to notice her knife before his tone shifted, more direct. Fife hesitated, torn between conflicting urges to run, do as she'd been told, and to stay, to show some small bit of loyalty.

In the end, reason won out; she bolted, stepping back into the road and running as hard as she could toward the estate. Fife was small and fast, and accustomed to running away from the sounds of anger and violence behind her. She'd been doing it her whole life and it was never easy, but it was harder to ignore the sounds of conflict behind her tonight.

It wasn't too far, and Fife didn't slow her pace as she skidded through the gate and ran the length of the drive. With her knife still in hand, she frantically pounded on the door, still not daring to look behind her.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Through the empty night several sounds chased after Fife. First there was the snap of a crossbow being fired. The sound louder and more harsh than was to be expected. The horrific cry of a horse in pain. A clash of metal, a dull thud then the cry of a man. Then silence the rest of the way. Just her own heavy breathing until she hammered on the door.

"What are you doing with that knife boy?" cried a red faced doorman after it was opened. It took him a moment to see the fear in his eyes and to remember that he was mute.

"They're here?" he grunted rhetorically. From within a cubby hole next to the door he picked up a small mace. He pulled Fife inside and stepped out onto the garden path.

 

[Fife]

Rhe broad fellow with the scar opened the door and, upon seeing the knife in her hand, immediately accosted her. Fife was wheezing, breathless after sprinting through the night, but pointed with the knife hand behind her.

Fortunately, the brute of a man must have been aware of the dangerous associations Raigryn had been questioning, and shoved her into the hall where she collapsed in a muddy heap on the floor. Only when he stepped into the garden did Fife dare look back. She saw nobody, but didn't know what she was expecting to see: Raigryn or the strangers.

The faces of the household staff peered out from the service stairwell. The pretty brown-haired, brown-eyed woman retreated, but Shelly and the complaining man stelped out toward her. The man looked out the door toward the garden while Shelly cautiously approached her.

"Put that knife down now and come away from the door," she urged. Fife shook her head, craning her neck to look down the lane.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

The doorman stopped suddenly. He dropped his weight and brought his mace up ready to fight.

"It's alright," came Raigryn's soft voice as he emerged from the darkness. He held the long hilt of his sword in his right and was still wiping down the blood with a dark rag. As he approached the light escaping the doorway he pulled away the rag. It was now a deep scarlet. One horse trotted after him. The saddle had a brace of crossbow quarrels hanging from one side.

"Two beside the road back there, one horse," he muttered to the doorman, just at the edge of Fife 's hearing. The sword went back into his scabbard. It was an awkward process with it over his back, but he believe it wasn't something you did unless the fight was done or you were running away. Could always get another sword.

Raigryn looked up, seeing the knife in his hand still. "Come on Fife, we need to go quickly now."

 

[Fife]

She saw the manservant bracing himself as a shadow came down the lane and Fife dragged herself to her feet. A man's voice came from the darkness, and her arm sagged, still brandishing the knife. It was Raigryn. Shelly urged her again to put away the knife, so Fife finally shoved it back into its sheath in her muddy boot.

The complaining man stepped aside as Raigryn approached and called for Fife, and she quickly stepped outside after him. Her lip was wobbling, and she was barely keeping her wits about her. This wasn't like any other time she'd run away from trouble. She knew it by the blood at the edge of his coat and still on his hands. Fife had been careful to avoid violent conflict, and her first scrape with it left her shaken.

She looked up at him, ready to follow him back out into the night. She had done as he'd told her, and he was alright -- or appeared alright. Fife sniffed between her still ragged breaths, but was too proud to admit defeat and wipe her eyes and nose. Mercy, Raigryn had killed somebody and seemed calm; the least she could do was steel her backbone after running away.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"See, saved me buying a horse?" he called up to Fife. It had followed him away from the estate so he had discarded the crossbow bolts and helped Fife up into the saddle. The boy had never ridden before but Raigryn could tell he was shaken. It wasn't difficult. Not at the pace he was walking wirh the reigns in hand anyway.

They had taken a little detour around the scene. It had been over very quickly. The crossbow had misfires, sending shards of iron into the backside of the other horse. It had stumbled and then fallen as Raigryn and used Fury to cut straight through the swordsman's leg. The crossbowman had barely drawn his blade before Raigryn ran him through. Then had come the unpleasant task of putting down the other horse.

Holt's man had refused to answer any questions so Raigryn had put him out of his misery too.

"Fife, we're going to leave Elbion. Tonight. It's not safe anymore. You can take your chances back on the street if you want. Or I can write a letter the cobbler. You might not be at much risk. Think about it. Decide before we get back."

 

[Fife]

Fife didn't attempt to comment or ask what had happened as shewalked with Raigryn out of the garden and away from the estate. The horse had followed them, and he put her astride it. She was shaking as much from fear of the horse as from her cold wet feet and the after-effects of adrenaline. She gripped the rise of the pommel until her hands were white, and cast him a scathing look in the darkness that implied she was not very impressed by his grim joke.

Their alternate route was a detail that was neither lost on her or unappreciated. She didn't want to see it. After a while she began to calm down, her grip on the pommel loosening (though she didn't dare release her hold entirely) and her pulse finally settling to something more regular.

He informerd her that he would be leaving and presented her with her options. She didn't sign for a reply, and appreciated that he was giving her the whole ride back to think on what she wanted to do. It was a seious choice, and one that was likely going to mean the difference between life and death. Her face was already white with dread.

So instead of thinking about that right away, she broke the silence by softly whistling the tune she'd used to imitate his name just the night prior. When she had his attention, she dared to lift her hands from the saddle to gesture: pointing to him, then holding out her arm while her other hand cut across it. Did you get hurt? Now that she was calm enough to think of anything, it was her first question.

Then she pointed to him again before tapping the saddle. She indicated herself and made a walking sign with her fingers. You can ride and I can walk. She didn't tell him she was afraid of the horse, but she quickly replaced her hands on the pommel.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"No, not a scratch," Raigryn replied. It amused him that she had a specific whistle to get his attention. "Be a long time before a couple of briggards of that quality can both me," he said more gruffly. There was that hint of wounded pride again.

"No point my riding and you walking," he said, but he used the reigns to being the horse to a stop. He could sense that she was uncomfortable with being on the horse. It was a large beast, it wasn't a natural thing for a street urchin to do.

"Slide forward a little," he instructed as he put his foot in the stirrup. Swinging himself up he sat behind Fife with him pressed against his chest. He squeezed Fife fairly right between his arms and took the reigns, setting them off at a canter. It probably seemed quite fast to the boy. Not to Raigryn. He remembers charging across the fields of Atringbell when they had dashed the baron's light cavalry.

It only took them a few minutes to reach the gates of the city across the road. There he had to stop to explain to the same guard they had seen that he had been loaned a horse before letting the horse walk up the cobbles to the inn. There was no stable so he had to simply tie the horse outside. He had no intention of taking more than a few minutes collecting his things.

 

[Fife]

He was fine, and she was glad to hear it. It was strange and oddly relieving, hearing the slight tone of offense in his voice as he stated it would take a lot more than that to best him. She would prefer it if he were not truly tested in her company.

Raigryn stopped the horse and told her to scoot forward, and she did. Her face was flushed from more than the wind as he swung into the saddle behind her, though she was grateful for the support of his chest to lean back on and his arms to hold her upright when he kicked the steed into a canter. She didn't get a lot of thinking done on their short ride, too busy watching the ground whip by them.

But when they arrived at the inn and Raigryn told her to go to her room and gather upher things, she had all the time she needed. There was really only the three choices he had put down: she returned to the streets and disappeared, she went to learn the trade with the cobbler, or she left Elbion for some other fate elsewhere.

Returning to the streets made little sense, given the other options. If word got out that she had associated with Raigryn for even this single day, it would mean her head lost to the Holts. There weren't a plethora of mute boys running around, so she didn't even have the security blanket of anonymity. Going to the cobbler would give her a trade, but the same threat applied. In neither of those choices did she learn more about Empathy.

Fife took her time folding her tunic and breeches. She took a moment to wash her hands and face, then scraped the mud off of her boots. There wasn't anything to to steal from the room, and when she had finished her short to-do list in just a few minutes, she sighed and gathered the things into her arms.

A moment later she knocked on Raigryn's door. As soon as he answered, she pointed to herself, walked her fingers, then pointed to him. I'm going with you. She didn't look very confident in her choice, but it was the one she'd deemed best and was going to commit to it.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Very well," he said, offering a smile and small nod. He looked very different to the man who had gone out that morning to arrange business. His heavy travelling cloak had seen heavy use as had his boots. The long handle of his hand and a half sword protruded over one shoulder. A sword he apparently knew how to use well. There was a hard edge to his expression that hadn't left since they had been accosted on the road.

Behind him on the table was his writing case and a small pile of coin. Enough for the room, storage of his tools and a replacement wash bowl. The criminal had paid for the room as well as providing his horse. The horse was worth far, far more than the coin he had taken from the saddle bags.

They slipped out the side entrance and out into the night. Raigryn took a few moments to arrange his travelling equipment in the saddle bags. He travelled fairly light on the road, but it would be a pleasant change not to do so on foot for once.

"Think you can get up on your own?" he asked Fife. "There's a crossroad five miles out with an inn that's open all hours. We're going there and then tomorrow we'll walk and rest the horse."

 

[Fife]

Fife was rather out of sorts as they prepared to leave. She didn't know what to think about any of this. Yesterday she had been trying to prove that she had the skills and potential to join a decent gang, and today she had become a mage's apprentice and an accomplice to the murder of gods-knew-who. The path she had set herself upon had forked off twice suddenly, and her mind was reeling.

Raigryn seemed calm, though in his thoughts, too. As they left the inn, she wondered if he was regretting her presence yet, if he was taking her along only out of the same kindness that had driven him to pardon a thief. He would have gone to Gallern's regardless, that meeting and request of services destined from before he offered to teach her. But he wouldn't be dragging a kid along now if he'd thrown her to the guard instead.

It was easy for those thoughts to creep in, but harder to take solid root. Raigryn didn't seem like the kind of person to do something that he ultimately didn't want to. He had been nice and thoughtful, and she found herself trusting him a lot more than she should have trusted a man she'd only known for a day. She didn't trust him entirely, and the more she learned about him the less certain she became about him, but she sure trusted him a lot more than anyone else.

Arriving at the horse, he asked if she could mount it independently, and she looked from him to the stirrup. She was a leggy thing for her height, but she was still drastically shorter than both he and the horse. The horse's withers were above her head, and the stirrup hung even with her sternum. Plus, she was mortally afraid of the beast in general.

After surveying the challenge and without taking her cautious eye off of the horse's face for too long, she raised a trembling hand to the saddle. Fife tried to imitate his form, and after a few tries was able to maneuver her foot into the stirrup and boost her lithe body up onto the seat. She was shaking so hard it was making her wobbly, but she eventually got her leg over the other side and sat clinging to the pommel.

She managed to lift her shaking hand to give him a thumb up.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Hey, lad," he said quietly, placing his hand over Fife's forearm. "This will all be alright. Okay?"

Everything was supposed to be in balance. That was a central tenant of his order. One that he would pass down to every Empath he managed to train before departing this world.

Right now Fife had been thrown off kilter through his actions. Admittedly not just his actions; the boy had decided to rob him first of all.

"Holts might seem powerful of these streets, but their reach doesn't go that far. A few weeks it will all blow over and you can come back home. How does that sound?"

He stayed beside the horse, knowing he would need to ge out of the city soon. Preferably by another gate.

 

[Fife]

Raigryn's words were reassuring, and Fife took a deep breath, nodded, then shrugged. Perhaps. She didn't try to tell him that there wasn't much to come back to. The closest thing she'd ever had to a home was the wooden crate she slept in in her earliest memories. Clinging to Elbion had been a reflex borne of a fear of the unknown beyond the city. She wasn't brave, preferring to hide in the shadows and run before things got too dicey; leaving Elbion had been too daunting to ever consider, even when things got bad.

But now she was leaving. He was right -- things would blow over and she could easily come back. Perhaps she would. Those were choices she didn't have to worry about tonight, however. Her present concern should be to focus on their safe departure and getting as far from this trouble as necessary.

Fife whistled for Raigryn and pointed from him to the saddle, questioning if he intended to walk or ride. Five miles was a fair distance to travel on foot, especially if he meant to be out of Elbion sooner than later.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Yeah... Budge up," he warned before throwing himself up and behind Fife. It wouldn't be good for a long period of time to ride like this, but Fife didn't seem particularly heavy. They would need to walk tomorrow.

"We might have to see if we can get you a nice placid pony that'll follow along. That's Empathy, writing and riding on the list then," he muttered in amusement as he turned the horse down the road.

It didn't take them long to leave the city, taking a different gate so that the same guards didn't see them coming and leaving. He didn't ride the horse hard, Fife was anxious enough with the horse at a canter again. Raigryn gave a few tips on balance and loosened his grip on Fife so she could try and move with the horse for a little way.

The inn at the crossroads was visible for a long way. The light of the fire and several candles visible through the windows of the bottom floor. They went to stable the horse before heading inside.

Smoke clung to the rafters. Even at this hour there was a small - and very different - crowd in the inn. Men in heavy travelling cloaks who look road weary.

"Do you have any rooms?" Raigryn asked at the bar.

"Just the one sorry," came the reply from a man who looked more like a grizzled soldier than an innkeeper. He was, in fact. Raigryn had asked before.

"You're sleeping on the floor," Raigryn told Fife without missing a beat.

 

[Fife]

Fife moved forward so Raigryn could ride as well, and they made for a different gate than they had entered the city through. She didn't look back as they left Elbion, but rather focused on riding and looking ahead. Raigryn proposed finding a pony for her to ride, an idea she nodded vigorously to. Something short and plucky that wouldn't throw her from her own height to the ground -- it sounded nice.

Though the ride was short, the speed and bumps of the pace left her backside sore. She clung to what bits of her pride remained and refrained from rubbing it when she dismounted, but it took a few steps to loosen the tight muscles.

The tavern wasn't altogether as inviting inside as it seemed from its exterior, but it was dry and warm. A small crowd of people sat about at its various tables, and Fife surveyed them all as they walked up to the bar. Raigryn fit in rather well here, she thought -- at least, in this presentation of himself. She, on the other hand, was too young and her eyes too bright.

When Raigryn informed her that she would be sleeping on the floor, Fife shrugged then gave him a thumb up. No problem. He was the one paying for everything, so it was only fair he got the more comfortable sleeping arrangements. Besides, he was old. Sleeping on the floor could hardly be good for him.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

The room was small. From one side he could have struck the other wall with his sword. He let the door fall shut quietly then closed his eyes. Fife might sense a touch of Misery as he placed a curse on the door.

"Don't open that door from the other side," he warned. Whether he ever showed her how to use that aspect, or Disgust was something he would have to give thought to. They were always taught last. The darkest of the art.

He laid down his travel bedroll beside the bed again, placed his sword in the corner of the room closest to his head and a sheathed knife under the pillow. Not much chance of Holt assassins following them, but he hadn't lived this long by taking chances. Fife was then afforded no warning before he undressed and got into bed.

"In the morning we cross the river and head south," he muttered before starting to drift off. He hadn't had to draw so quickly for a few weeks now and it had left him drained.

 

[Fife]

Fife watched Raigryn with immense curiosity as he did something to the door. Looking at it when he had finished, she opened her perception to "look", and could feel the dark swirls of sadness there. She nodded to his instruction, but didn't need to ask him why; she'd felt that in herself enough to know that it couldn't be anything good.

She then watched him stow his sword and a knife, and she made a point to pull her wee knife from her boot and put it under her bedroll where he could see her, then looked to him for some level of transparency between them. He knew she had it now, and didn't ask any questions, so she considered the matter complete.

He started to undress, however, and Fife quickly busied herself removing her boots with her back to him. She took longer than necessary untying them, and only removed her tunic when he had flopped into the bed. Her new undershirt wasn't as threadbare as the one he'd replaced, but not so long that she dared sleep without her pants on. She waited until he seemed to be well on his way to sleep before she fiddled with the bindings on her chest, adjusting them where they had bunched up as best she could without wrapping them fresh. She resolved to steal away to the privy out back in the morning and fix them, before they left.

Feeling the day's events quickly catching up to her, she wriggled into the bedroll and made herself comfortable. Knowing her night would be fitful after the day's events, she tried not to stew in her thoughts too much before sleep took her.

// Raigryn Vayd //​