Chapter Ten: Stalker
A man stood in the shadows of a closed pub, dressed in borrowed clothes that would help him blend into a crowd. The festivalgoers had all returned home and the lanterns had been blown out, so darkness and silence shrouded the streets of Anathaem, concealing him.
The man shrunk deeper into the shadows, feeling the presence of people. Austin walked into his field of sight, her fiery red hair giving away her identity. She was taking the route back to the training grounds, but she was not alone.
Her guide wasn’t Aiden. The man wondered where the general of Anathaem’s military was, but cut the thought short. His job was not to wonder, but to give Austin every ounce of his attention.
He couldn’t help but wonder how Dustin would react to Austin making friends with a storyteller. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to kill Kai Davis. He had to admit, the boy was one of the best storytellers to walk to face of Affelil in quite a few centuries.
Even if he was ordered to kill the storyteller, he might not. He wasn’t going to cater to the boy’s every whim, no matter how high of a position Dustin held. He wasn’t going to be a servant to the boy he considered a son.
The Austin and Kai Davis turned onto another street, but the man made no move to follow them. He didn’t want to rouse suspicion. Instead, he slipped his hand against the brick wall behind him, searching for the deepest part of the shadow. When he found it, he closed his eyes.
The night gave each of his people a unique ability. To him, it had given the Sight. The darkness acted as his eyes whenever he wished. On a night such as this one, where the new moon gave no hint of light, his vision was remarkably clear.
Austin and Kai Davis were still safe, still heading towards the tents. Despite the fact that his Sight carried with it no sound, their smiles told him that they were as happy as the rest of Anathaem tonight.
Wanting to see them with his own eyes before his shift was over, he took a step forwards.
It was only then, stopped by the cold metal of a dagger, that he wished he had spent more time wondering where the general had gone.
“Chaos,” Aiden welcomed him warmly, trailing a line of blood across the man’s neck, “Now this is a surprise.”
Fledgling Page 11