Chapter 56 – Reality
The pool of blood slowly soaked into the beam as SJ crouched frozen on the beam. There were now four beings in the room: two female humans, a female elf and an elven male. SJ listened as they cried, screamed and uttered curses at what had unfolded. Currently, there was nothing SJ could do. The lanterns were all now fully lit, the room completely flooded with light. Even in her miniature form, if she were to move, it could draw the wary eye of one of those below.
One of the women left, her cheeks stained with tears; she had stated she was going to get the guard. The elven male had bent down and covered Julisa with a blanket. Only her face was visible now; her eyes had been closed, and she looked peaceful. SJ didn't usually hang around to view her antics so clearly as she did now, and she felt a sickness deep inside her. Her thoughts were frantic as she considered her next move.
"Just be patient," Dave said, trying to calm her.
How can I be patient? I'm stuck in a room where I have just killed two beings.
"Firstly, you were completing a quest, which you decided to accept and have now done so. Secondly, the man was just an additional entity that, from a quest's perspective, has no impact, as he attacked you first, so if you're still worried about your moral footprint, the fact that you have stayed alive is the key point to consider, and the system would never use self-defence as a means to impact your alignment."
That's the last thing on my mind at the moment. I need to get out of here before the guards arrive.
"Why? You are hidden; they have searched the room and checked everywhere. They even looked up at the beams, and no one has spotted you, so your camouflage skill is working well."
That's not the point. I can't stay crouched like this forever. I'm struggling to stay perfectly still as it is currently, and I can feel my leg knitting back, which is itching like hell.
"You need to suck it up. Use Liam's fancy technique. You know the breathing one."
Mountain's Stillness, SJ thought as she closed her eyes. Slowly, she breathed in, controlling her urge and focusing internally rather than on what was happening a few feet beneath her. Slowly, her nerves began to settle, her thoughts calming as she focused purely on her inner self. She opened her eyes again and heard heavy footfalls climbing the stairs and what must have been the voices of guards.
"So, what happened?" a guard said on entering the room and taking in the two dead victims.
"We have no idea. We all came to investigate the noise of fighting and then found them both dead."
"Did you not see the attacker?" Another guard asked.
"No, the room was empty when we got here," the woman who had collected the guard said.
The first guard frowned. "How long was it before you heard fighting, too, getting here?"
"It can only have been moments," the elven male stated.
"Then where is the attacker?" It doesn't look like these two attacked each other, looking at their body positions and wounds."
"No, something with claws attacked them," the male elf said.
"How can you be sure?" a guard asked.
"There," the male pulled up the back of the man's shirt where he lay; the clear-cut lines from SJ's attack were clearly visible.
"And why would someone want to attack her?"
"I have no idea. She did nothing wrong; if anything, she supported the community."
Their ideas about sharing secrets as a means of supporting the community aren't what I expected to hear.
"No, but unfortunately, they will see it as the little people fighting against the establishment. Typical, really," Dave said.
They all must have been involved.
"Very likely, Julisa couldn't have been available to meet everyone; they probably passed details to her, and she decided which was the most lucrative opportunity."
Perhaps.
"If you have no details of who the attacker was, there is little we can do," a guard said.
"What?" one of the women shouted. "Julisa and Branson have been murdered, and there is nothing you can do?"
"Not unless you are willing to pay for a tracker to come and see what they can discover, and I'm sure you know how unreliable they are in the city."
The woman turned to the others, who shrugged. "How much?" she asked.
"At this hour, you are looking at 12 silver to hire a half-decent one."
"Do it," the woman said.
"Are you sure? Twelve silver is a lot to potentially find nothing out," the second guard said.
"I don't care if it was twelve gold," the woman snarled. Out of all the beings in attendance, she had remained stoic; not one tear had been shed.
"We'll get a tracker sent over. Don't touch anything," the guards said as they left the room.
One of the women followed the guards out.
"Larwin, you need to let Gallian know."
The male elf just nodded as he left the room, now leaving the one woman and a female elf. The female elf still looked shocked; her face was pale, and she had been crying.
"Don't worry, Faquiss, we will discover who did this. Never mind, Gallian is going to be furious."
On hearing the name the second time, recognition flooded SJ's mind.
Gallian is the priest who works for the Chief.
"Correct," Dave confirmed.
At least it proves how closely tied into each other they were, SJ thought, feeling a small sense of reprieve for what she had done.
All SJ wanted to do was rub her leg and now also scratch her wing; the tear the arrow had created in it was now healing as well, creating the worst back itch ever. She grimaced, resisting the urge to move. She dared not in her current predicament.
Faquiss began to sob again as she looked at Julisa.
"Come, let's get you a drink," the woman said, steering Faquiss from the room.
SJ breathed a sigh of relief as the room emptied, rubbing her healing leg and then frantically her wing. The Divine Lightning skill that Bob had granted her was amazing, but the itching it caused due to the speed she could heal out of combat was unforgiving.
"You need to go now," Dave said urgently.
And where exactly? SJ could hear the voices of the two women; wherever they had gone, they were still close by.
"Anywhere but here."
SJ scanned the room again. She flapped her wing to ensure that it gave her lift before she turned, heading to the one place she could potentially see that would give her a clear escape route without being seen.
"Where are you going?" Dave asked, then continued, "Oh."
The door wasn't an option, and the only place SJ could see she could use to ensure she could escape cleanly loomed nearer. She flew into the fire's hearth; thankfully; it hadn't been lit. The recent weather had been pleasant, and it hadn't been raining. She immediately looked upward, pumping her wings as she did. It wasn't the time to try to avoid disturbing the soot-covered sides of the chimney. As she soared upwards to the top, a layer of soot was disturbed, and she heard it fall to the hearth beneath her. She couldn't see clearly; it swirled so thickly around her.
The scene would have probably looked like the chimney sweeps from Mary Poppins as she flew up and out into the night sky. A cloud of soot followed her. She didn't pause and immediately turned, heading back down towards the rooftops, using their uneven and varied heights to conceal her movement.
"At least with you flying, tracking will be near impossible," Dave said. "How's the wing?"
It felt fine until you made me think about it again. SJ could tell that it wasn't perfect; it still itched, which meant it hadn't been fully repaired yet. At least the cut to her leg had sealed up, preventing a trail of blood from being left as she flew away from the scene.
She paused several streets over, coming to rest on a flat roof. A washing line held clothes left out overnight; the damp air clung to them. Her hands were black from her escape, and she dared not think what she looked like overall. Her dress and boots were slowly cleaning off the soot as they performed their miraculous task of self-repair.
The streets below knew nothing of what had just taken place. It was after one in the morning. Several beings still moved around, but nothing in comparison to the usual scenes of the day. A large orc staggered along with a dwarf, their voices loud as they sang a song she had heard in several bars of Asterfal. It reminded her of the normality of the city, away from its darkened underworld.
The itching lessened again, and she flexed her wings. They felt much more even now. She had only noticed while flying that she had been straining to lean to offset her damaged wing.
I'm going home for a bath, SJ said as she took off again. Her home was in darkness as she entered through the balcony. There was enough light that she didn’t even bother with a lantern. Her throat was scratchy from flying through the soot, and she headed straight downstairs to the kitchen to grab a bottle of honey wine; she needed a drink to help settle her frayed nerves. Her stomach felt acidic, and she knew that it wasn’t the best thing to do, but at this moment, it's all she wanted.
As she turned to leave the kitchen, she was met with the high-pitched scream of Yawnee, who had just walked into the kitchen.
"Yawnee, it's me," SJ said immediately. She hadn't expected anyone to be awake and hadn't cleaned up yet.
Lurtew came bursting into view, carrying what appeared to be a clothes hanger.
"What is it?" he said, freezing as he also saw SJ, his eyes going wide in shock.
"Are you alright?" Yawnee said, gathering herself.
"I'm fine, why?" SJ was confused by the statement.
"You look like you have been set on fire, and you're covered in blood."
SJ hadn't even considered her appearance. Yes, her dress had started to self-clean, but her hands and arms were still red with black streaks of soot, and she dreaded to think what her face looked like. The patch of blood from her slashed thigh also hadn't cleared up fully yet.
"Let me go and get cleaned up," SJ said, hurrying past them and back upstairs.
It was the first time they had ever seen her return immediately from one of her jobs, before she had a chance to clean herself up. As she reached her room and lit the lantern, looking in her mirror, she could see why Yawnee had screamed. She looked nothing like her usual self, bedraggled and filthy.
She turned the bath on, letting the hot water flow, and poured scented oil she had bought from the vendors before rubbing the worst of the grime off on a towel and climbing into the bath. She scrubbed herself raw, removing all the ingrained soot and evidence of blood. Her dress had continued to clean itself, as had her boots, and by the time she climbed back from the tub and dried herself, they had returned to their usual pristine appearance. She pulled them back on and changed their design to a more casual one before heading back downstairs.
The smell of coffee met her as she re-entered the kitchen. Both Yawnee and Lurtew were sitting there, and the pair turned to look at her as she entered.
"I'm so sorry," SJ said, seeing their concerned faces.
"You scared me half to death," Yawnee admitted. "I thought we were being burgled."
"Lurtew came straight to your rescue," SJ smiled as she glanced at Lurtew and the clothes hanger that lay on the tabletop. His cheeks ruffled a little with embarrassment when he realised SJ had seen his weapon of choice to defend them. "I didn't expect anyone up at this hour, and I was just collecting some honeywine." The bottle was upstairs; she hadn't even opened it.
"Coffee," Lurtew asked, standing.
"Please."
SJ held the fresh cup of coffee as the pair of them looked at her. SJ wasn't quite sure what they were thinking.
"You're not injured?" Lurtew eventually said.
"No, I'm fine." The itching on her thigh had stopped now, and she knew it was fully healed.
"But the blood?" Yawnee asked.
"Part mine, part others," SJ replied honestly.
"You were on a job then?"
"Yes. I had a quest to complete." They knew SJ's class and obviously had an inkling of certain things, but for the most part, she never discussed her quests or other things happening in the city she was dealing with to that degree.
"Was it successful?" Lurtew asked, as if wanting to know more.
"It was, thankfully, although there were complications."
"Of the deadly kind by your previous appearance."
"Yes," SJ's single-word answer held more weight than her explaining anything in detail.
"At least you're okay," Yawnee said, pouring herself another coffee. SJ noticed that her hand shook slightly.
SJ reached out and took hold of it. "I'm really sorry, Yawnee. I didn't mean to scare you so much."
Yawnee looked at her friend, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I'll be fine; it was just a bit of a shock, that's all."
SJ felt a wave of guilt. It was the first time she had witnessed the impact her class choice had on a friend.
"You have nothing to feel guilty about," Dave said.
Of course I do. I have scared and worried a friend. If I shouldn't feel guilty about that, then what should I feel guilty about?
"She was alright asking for your help when she had messed up with the Ponzi scheme," Dave stated, his tone accusatory.
That's not the same, and you know it isn’t. I wasn't killing people. As that thought entered her mind, the crescendo of guilt again increased. Once more, the questioning of her choices was even more present to her.
Will I ever get past this feeling? Her internal monologue was uncontrollable at this moment. She had hurt a friend, someone she cared for and trusted.
She released Yawnee's hand and stood. She walked around the table and pulled Yawnee up into a hug. Her own tears started to flow as Yawnee sobbed quietly. They remained like that for several minutes before SJ released her friend. Yawnee's cheeks were matted from her tears.
"I promise I will be more careful in the future."
Yawnee hiccupped as she replied. "Thank you. I would dread to think how Cristy would be if you were killed."
SJ had never even considered Cristy in the conversation. Cristy was, after all, a Lieutenant in the town guard now in Killic. A very capable and skilled beast warden, with a strong wolf pack to back her. She was no longer the small gnoll child SJ had first met on the streets of Killic. They spoke often, but it was always their usual banter and chat, like that of sisters, never of the fears that the loss of either of them might bring.
There were no words that SJ could use to describe the anxiety that had embedded itself. She was an assassin who regularly put herself in harm's way for the ‘greater good'.
SJ wiped her own cheeks before straightening and brushing her dress. The kitchen felt smaller than it ever had before, its cosy interior wrapped around her. Lurtew had refilled their cups without saying a word. That was his way of showing that he cared.
"Right," SJ said, taking a long breath. "I need you both to know that what I do isn't easy or always goes to plan. I do it though because I believe it is right, removing the evil that this city holds from those who hold it in their leashes. It doesn't stop me worrying or questioning my actions. I'm not a monster and I never do it indiscriminately. I always carefully survey my targets before taking any action. I don't want either of you worrying about me."
Lurtew grunted. "That's easier said than done."
SJ looked at Lurtew and smiled weakly. "I can accept that. Anyway, you should go back to bed, and I should also get some sleep."
"If you think I'm sleeping after three coffees, you're mistaken," Lurtew said. "I think I'll go and do some prep work in the workshop."
Yawnee looked at Lurtew. "I'm sorry, I never meant to wake you."
"I hope you would if you saw a dark, mysterious figure in our home," he scoffed as he turned and headed downstairs.
"Thank you, SJ. I know what you do isn’t easy, and I know you care. You just scared me tonight, that's all."
"I'm glad you let me know how you feel," SJ said again, hugging Yawnee briefly. "Right, I need sleep. I have another busy day tomorrow," SJ said as she retired.
On reaching her room, she looked at the unopened bottle of honeywine on her bedside table.
"You handled that well," Dave said quietly.
Better than you would have you mean?
"Perhaps. Anyway, as you said, you need sleep. You are supposed to be seeing Skuldor in the morning, and that's only a few hours away."
She stripped and climbed into her bed before wrapping herself tightly in her blankets. She wished Kibble were here with her; his gentle snoring always put her to sleep.
"I can sing you a lullaby if you wish?" Dave offered.
SJ couldn't help but chuckle as she lay there, considering what she would do next.
