In the persistent darkness of the very early morning, where the weary torches could hardly be bothered to cast their light, Silveredge and Mi'ishaen stood behind a row of houses with their foreheads touching. Niku sat closer to the mouth of the alley, his careful nose twitching as it worked to catch any distrusted scent.
"Be on your guard," Mi'ishaen finally said, breaking a near minute of silence.
"Of course," Silveredge agreed, reaching out her arms for the Tiefling's waist. The two drew closer together, their shadows morphing into one near-solid mass.
"Don't let anyone get behind you. Sit in a corner, watch the entrance."
"Back to a wall, I promise."
"Not to close to anything that would require a hole to be in the wall- pictures, mirrors, shelves, lamps-"
"I'll come back, Mishka. I'll come back and tell you all about it, from beginning to end."
"I'm crazy over this- it just feels all kinds of wrong," Mi'ishaen admitted, clinging tightly around Silveredge's waist. "I'll be nearby. I won't come in with you, but- I just don't like this at all."
Silveredge only nodded, biting her lips as she began to release her hold on Mi'ishaen.
Mi'ishaen released Silveredge immediately, stepping back with the quickness of a child caught at a forbidden activity. "You're right- get going, before somebody tries to push curfew on us again. Here's the-"
Silveredge slipped two of the largest of the remaining coins between her breasts, then pulled the tied sash a bit tighter underneath them.
"I'll return for you."
Mi'ishaen, who remembered with stinging clarity that Silveredge was borrowing her words again, couldn't say anything else. So with that, the Shadar-kai turned to walk resolutely up the alley toward a side street with better lighting. Under the stronger torches there, her hair, which she'd braided half way back on her head while leaving the rest loose to cover her piercing, gleamed radiantly. The profile of her delicate, yet angular nose, her soft cheeks, swan neck and pleasantly curved body struck Mi'ishaen, who realized at last that she wasn't just appraising the Shadar-kai. Without finishing the thought, the Tiefling turned away, and Niku- with a displeased snort- got up to follow her into another side street.
An hour later, just as the sun began thinking about rising over the homes of Suzail, a young-faced, robe-clad woman entered the tavern. She looked miserably out of place at once, surrounded by rough fighters waiting for work, sailors and off-duty guards. As a precaution, the Shadar-kai thought first of the chaos of a world without laws, then the rigidity of a place where laws were the uppermost in all minds. She then stretched her thoughts toward the blessing of a fresh baby's soul, then of smashing the babe's head to the ground with a darkened heart. Meditating on these images, she invoked a spell that obscured her own intentions, so that it would be more difficult for someone to do to her precisely what she was about to do to the young woman. Silveredge thought of Svaentok as she carefully, but consciously allowed her spirit to sense what the woman might be looking for. The answer surprised her, and she remained quietly in her corner, wondering why such a waif would be combing the place looking for her. The young woman sat down at the far corner of the bar after nearly a minute of scouring the area without apparent success.
Ten minutes after the slight, robed female ordered and received a hot cup of coffee, a leather armor clad male strode into the tavern. He had closely cropped, chestnut brown tresses that retained a bit of waviness, and hazel eyes that could swiftly change their hue with the shifting light. His features were sharp, but also carried without any edge of nerves or temper, and the manner of his movement spoke to an easy, experienced confidence. It was altogether believable that whatever martial line of work the man was in had employed him for at least a decade.
The man looked briefly at the young woman, and when the two locked eyes, the woman looked away quickly. Just as the man began to move toward a table, the server that had been working with Silveredge approached the table.
"Is there something wrong with your soup?" the young woman asked cautiously, pushing a stray bit of dark hair behind her fingers.
"It- was only a bit cold," Silveredge suggested gently. The honest truth was that it had been as cold as day old porridge, but the server had seemed so easily bent that Silveredge took the bowl without a word. Now, however, the young woman's eyes popped open in surprise, then glistened with apology.
"I'll take it back to the kitchen right away," she whispered, picking up the bowl. "I can pay-"
"Not at all; I'll pay for it- and a cup of tea, if there's any yet in the pot?"
"I don't know; I think it's gone for the morning, but they're bound to boil another, if you don't mind staying a while," the waitress said a bit more confidently.
At at this point, Silveredge noticed that the armor clad man had made his way to her table and seated himself directly across from her, so that he blocked her view of the robed woman.
"I don't mind- oh, you don't have to take the fork."
The waitress thought to remark on the fact that one usually needed a spoon for soup, but then figured that her patron was in the habit of using the bread as the spoon, as a few other cultures were wont to do. With a small nod, she moved toward the kitchen with the bowl, leaving Silveredge with a stranger.
"Good morning, Silveredge," the male smiled genuinely. "I come on behalf of the Sunfire Mercenaries."
"My lord is kind," Silveredge responded at once, bowing her head slightly. "His handmaiden hopes he will not mind if she asks the grace of knowing his name?"
"It can be unnerving, can't it, to have one know you without knowing them," the man nodded. "Are you alone?"
"As alone as is my lord," the Shadar-kai replied, her voice coming quietly enough to be considered a whisper.
"I see," the man said with the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. "Your knowledge of alchemy and magic hasn't gone unremarked. Where did you learn?"
"One can learn much simply by listening and watching," Silveredge answered with a delicate smile.
"So very true, my dear, so very true- ah, here's your soup back, then-"
"Yes, here it is," the server smiled politely.
Silveredge immediately noticed that the young woman held a small scrap of paper underneath the saucer, but didn't allow herself to look anywhere but up into the woman's face as she accepted the soup and bread.
"This is warm, thank you," the Shadar-kai noted. "I can give you the-"
"Never mind the bill; I'll be glad to pay it when we're through," the man said. The tone was kindly enough, yet dealt with enough weight for Silveredge not to attempt to counter it. "And if you wouldn't mind, I'll have a tea as well, when they've heated up the water again."
Silveredge set the bowl and saucer down and began ripping at the bread as though she'd noticed nothing strange. The man allowed her to get the first bit of soup-sodden bread into her mouth before calling the bluff.
"I don't intend to attack you. But it was interesting that your gentleman caller was merely put down with a pillow. If he had attacked your ladyfriend alone, he would have run into greater peril."
Silveredge pursed her lips and swallowed slowly, then looked up into the man's satisfied face. "Your handmaiden did not hold the pillow."
The man nodded slowly, as if conceding a point, then leaned into the table. "You didn't have to. You have before you a choice; one that I ask that you make before your soup goes cold again. Be aware that either way, you will not be harmed. It's not our way to crush the fingers of one closing the door."
Silveredge dropped her gaze again, then moved the bowl and saucer off the paper as the male reached across the table to her. Realizing his intentions even without focusing on them, Silveredge allowed his movement to mask her opening of the paper. After nearly a full minute, she slid the saucer and bowl back into its original position, then laid her hands on top of the man's hands. Her chilly touch pushed goosebumps out on his flesh, but he made no other sign of being cold.
"My lord may have a difficult time of doing as he claims."
And at this, the man laughed quietly- a calm, knowing chuckle that told Silveredge that he was expecting such a response. "Oh, she wasn't so difficult to convince. Now that dog- that was another story. He won't like me very much at all, when he sees me again. Now, what do you say?"
Silveredge flicked her metallic gaze directly into the man's ever-changing hazel eyes with a pure intensity that won a small noise of surprise from the young robe-clad woman at the other table.
"Your handmaiden shall walk in your footsteps until she has seen them with her own eyes. Then, other decisions shall be made."
The man, although intrigued and stunned in equal parts, managed to find his words quickly. "Well said; I'll allow it. Although, I must say, that's merely a delaying tactic on your part." He attempted to draw his hands away from Silveredge's grasp, only to discover that she was actively holding his hands down onto the table. "Oh, I see. Well, I should make myself clear then. They won't be harmed, either. And you may find yourself quite surprised at their state when you see them next, at that. It's not our way to mistreat our- guests."
Silveredge let go of the man's hands, but maintained her steady gaze, not saying anything. Within herself, she reminded herself of the extremes of psyche, then sunk into an impenetrable neutrality, willing herself not to give any hint of intention away. The man nodded slowly again, as though he understood what she had done, then backed away from the table as the server returned with two cups full of hot, brownish water.
The swell of tavern noise surrounded them, but could not fill the depth of the silence between them from that point forward.
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