“I will return in two days. See to Devinia’s feeding and do not let your other duties make you lose track of time. I know how you get when you get inspired.”
Prav gave her his best smile. “Of course, I will try to keep my head out of the clouds.”
“Oh and remind Nult that he has to choose his pursuit soon.” She said as an afterthought, sheathing several daggers in hidden spaces in her armor.
“Go.” Prav encouraged. “It’s not the first contract you've had to work, I know my part.”
“I know.” she admitted. She reached out and pulled his head in for a kiss. Breaking off, she smiled at him. “Motherly worry.” She offered.
Prav nodded. “I hope your contract is completed quickly and for your safe return.” He said. He turned from her and leaned towards the candle.
“Geaighal.” He said, and the candle went out with a puff of smoke.
Ashrava vanished into the darkness. Prav didn’t have her ability to see perfectly in the dark, nor did he have her mastery of shadow magic, so he waited thirty seconds before relighting the candle with the same command word. Except for him and the baby, the room was empty. He sighed and carried the baby and candle into the next room.
“It’s going to be one of those years.” He muttered.
* * * *
Ashrava returned three days later, wounded but otherwise alive. She had completed her contract, but had nearly been caught several times during her escape. It happened more times than her family would care to admit, and it was given the requisite amount of worry before things returned to normal.
Devinia grew up for the first five years nearly a defenseless baby. Once she developed enough to be taught, she was given over to her tutors just like her brothers and sisters had been. As she slowly matured, the lessons her tutors gave her grew more difficult both intellectually and physically. It was believed that an inheritor of the Dancer in Darkness’ gift would be naturally suited to civil service, and she was trained from birth on assuming as such.
In both the Lands of Northern Suns and the Lands of Southern Moons, elves, who by their very nature lived long lives, kept themselves busy by taking up a pursuit. There were no ‘jobs’ to the elves like there were to men; only the thing they either loved doing or were interested in enough to spend decades mastering. Most professions were socially acceptable pursuits, and overall, the quality of workmanship in any such profession was better than in human lands. After all, a customer would not want a table made by a man who had no choice but to take up his family business; rather, a table masterfully crafted by an elf who not only lovingly worked on every detail, but had spent many times as long mastering the skill.
Devinia’s mother, Ashrava, had taken up the pursuit of civil service nearly seventy years before she had been born. Before that time, she had taken Prav as her husband and the two had worked as silk weavers together. While every decade when the season of change came and elves could move on to mastering another pursuit, he remained at his task. She, however, bored of the profession. During one season of change, she entered into a week-long ritual in private, telling no one but her husband where she would be. When she returned, her eyes had become golden and cat like. She had been blessed by a Dancer in Darkness, a sign that told Prav immediately what she was hoping to take part in. Civil service. Assassination.
* * * *
Ten-year-old Devinia ran down the streets laughing, blonde hair streaming in the wind as several other elven children tried to keep up. She juked and ducked behind the legs of an adult as she stole as much distance as she could. The other children flowed around the adult without even upsetting his stride, the male smirking as he hefted an oversized spool of thread. In the distance, she could hear Prav calling out encouragement as he watched over them.
Normally, a child would spend equal time with both parents at their job to learn about their pursuits and other responsibilities. Unfortunately, her mother’s pursuit was far too dangerous for her to tag along with, so she spent most of her time with the weavers. It was fun, but she missed her mother often.
At that moment, they were playing hunters, a game where everyone but one child played the hunters, and the one child played the prey. They would close their eyes and count to thirty, and then try to find the prey. If they could find them, they still had to catch the child by putting both hands on them.
The game was fun to play, being hunter or prey. If a child was fast, he could avoid the others for a long time. If he was a scrapper, he could avoid having hands laid upon himself. If he was excellent at hiding, the hunters could spend many minutes in the search.
Devinia was excellent at hiding. She had always been good at using shadowplay. Many of the other children couldn’t see her, even if they were standing right in front of her. She had won many of the games until one day, her father spotted her coming out of hiding. He didn’t seem angry with her, but that night her mother took her aside.
“Daughter,” Ashrava started as they were finishing dinner. “Your father told me that you’ve been a very good girl.”
“Yes, mother.” She replied, smiling. Mother always looked serious, even when talking to her daughter, but something about the edge of her expressions softened when talking to her.
“He also says you’re very good at not getting caught in a hunt.” Ashrava observed. “Even some of the older children can’t seem to find you when you are the prey.”
“Yes, mother!” Devinia said with a smile. “I almost never get caught when it’s my turn to be the prey! I like that game!”
Ashrava tilted her head slightly, an odd gesture on her part. “Wouldn’t it be better to be the hunter?” she asked.
Devinia shook her head. “No, being the hunter is boring.” She replied. “There are lots of hunters, but only one prey. I like being able to make them give up.”
Ashrava nodded. “Won’t you show me how you hide from them, Devinia?” she asked, the corners of her mouth ticking up in the closest thing she had to a smile.
Devinia nodded, and with a smile ran to the corner of the dining room. In traditional style, the whole of a tree was grown and then shaped to house a family of elves. They were multi-generational, too; as the family grew during the decades, so did the tree which could have additional rooms shaped from it. Because of the design, there were nooks, crannies and naturally formed alcoves. Devinia took shelter in the darkness cast by the walls around the alcove and vanished.
Prav stared at the alcove, certain that his eyes had deceived him. Even though he knew basic shadowplay, most Sha’hdi could only bend shadows to cover their bodies. His daughter disappeared without the shadows of the alcove changing; it appeared as if her own shadow wrapped around her and pulled her into the darkness.
Ashrava, however, only applauded. “Well done, daughter!” she praised, her tone approving. “You seem to have learned an advanced technique all on your own.”
Devinia reappeared, the darkness seeming to disgorge her into her original crouched position. She clambered out of the alcove, grinning.
“Thank you mother!” she replied. It was the most emotion her mother had ever shown her, and she was glad to have the attention. “But I just… could. It’s like holding your breath!”
Prav glanced at his wife. “Holding your breath?” he asked, puzzled.
His wife tilted her head at Devinia. “What do you mean, holding your breath?” she queried.
Devinia smiled. “Well, we learn that breath is a symbol of life.” She recited, remembering one of her earliest lessons. “And any elf can bend shadows to cover himself.”
“Any Sha’hdi can bend shadows, child.” Ashrava corrected. “The Suo’hdi have no such power.”
“Any Sha’hdi can bend shadows to cover herself.” Devinia corrected. “But I thought it would be better if I could bend to be like the shadows. So I was trying really hard one day and I was holding my breath and then there I was!”
Ashrava frowned. “Ah,” She said. “I see now.”
&n
bsp; “Did… did I do something wrong?” her daughter asked, worried.
Ashrava shook her head slightly. “No, child. You learned something, but it can be dangerous if you continue to use it incorrectly.”
“Oh…” Devinia said, crestfallen.
“So I will teach you how to do it properly, okay?” her mother continued. “Every night before bed, whenever I’m home.”
Devinia smiled again, excitement thrumming like electricity through her. “Really?” she exclaimed.
Ashrava nodded, but her expression was stern. “However, you cannot use it while you’re playing with the other children. It isn’t fair for them and they don’t learn anything if you do that.”
“Oh… okay mother.” Devinia replied. “I can still run, right?”
Ashrava smiled. “Sure. Try to think of it as you giving them a fair chance.”
“I can do that!” Devinia replied, beaming. “If I’m that good, doesn’t that make me the hunter, since I’m leading them around?”
Ashrava’s firm expression softened a feather more. “Yes, dear.” She replied, her eyes glimmering. “It makes you the predator.”
From that night on, until she was too old to play games, Devinia never hid when it was her turn to be the prey. She stood out where the other children could see, and outran them almost every time. In the evenings, when her mother was not out abroad working, Ashrava would teach her how to correctly meld into shadows. Those nights were the best ones of her life.
* * * *
Devinia watched two seasons of change pass and each time the season approached, Prav would argue with his wife. He wanted her to retire from the dangerous work. She was approaching three hundred years, a time where many venerable assassins had long since retired to more simple pursuits, if they lived that long. There was always a chance an assasin could be killed while on duty, and Ashrava had been injured more and more often during the last decade.
The fight never came to screaming; not even voices were raised. Yet every day, the tension of the house rose. Devinia was the only child still living in the home, and she could tell things were getting bad when she would have to take care of all the household duties on her own. Though shaken, Devinia hoped that things would sort themselves out soon enough.
Then, one night while Devinia was sleeping, her mother swept in and woke her with a start.
“Get dressed and grab the bag I packed for you.” Ashrava commanded, shaking Devinia’s shoulder. All the lights in the house had been extinguished, and only her eyes could pierce the darkness.
She slipped out of bed and went to her closet. Inside was a stand mirror for which the frame had been grown instead of carved. Because of the pitch darkness, though she could see, there was no reflection in the mirror. While still reflective, there was nothing it revealed except a pair of golden cat eyes staring back at her.
She reached for the small light crystal her mother had put in the closet, but Ashrava caught her hand. Looking up, she saw her mother shake her head slightly. Frowning, she turned back to her clothes.
Slim and slender, Devinia hadn’t even grown into her full height yet. Just under five feet, she was pretty but indefinite, with no definition of curve nor muscle, she could be confused for an elven boy just as easily as a girl. She was nearing her growing period, which happened between twenty and twenty two. Her father, as a silk weaver, had made sure her wardrobe was well stocked so she had plenty of adult clothing prepared in advance.
She dressed quickly, confused but afraid to ask her mother any questions. Ashrava was wearing her civil service gear and smelled of blood. Her face was tight, drawn into a mask of emotionless focus. Devinia had seen her mother make that face before, when she thought that Devinia wasn’t looking. It was her expression when she thought a fight was going to start. It was the face she made when she was called in to do a contract.
Since Sha’hdi fashion trended towards the blacks and grays, Devinia didn’t have much clothing that couldn’t be stealthy. She avoided clothing with hanging adornments and shiny embellishments. Thus dressed, she pulled her shoulder length blonde hair together and bound it from her face with a simple black ribbon.
Devinia pulled the bag out from under her bed and slipped it onto her shoulders. She looked over to her mother and nodded. The room was pitch black, but the two of them could see clearly they were alone for the moment. Ashrava opened her mouth to speak, but froze.
A faint tick of something hard touching wood came from the other side of the bedroom door. Devinia looked to the door and back at her mother. She had disappeared.
The doorknob silently turned, and the door slipped open just enough to let a lithe, masked figure into the room. Devinia backed away as quietly as she could, hoping that her pack wouldn’t make enough noise to give herself away. The assassin looked over the bed and scanned the room. She had golden eyes; the gold burning in defiance of the muted colors of the dark. She spotted the girl immediately.
“Ah… already dressed and ready to go.” The voice purred. Devinia thought she had heard the voice before. “Where is your mother?”
Devinia shook her head.
“Pity.” The assassin said, drawing a long, thin blade barely wider than one of her delicate fingers. “I had hoped to take care of her without waking you, but since you’re now awake… I am sorry, honey. But if you lay back down on the bed, I promise I will make it quick and painless, okay?”
Devinia trembled in fear, but shook her head. “No.”
“No?” the assassin pouted. “I’m offering you a gift, child.”
She did not hear Ashrava drop down behind her.
“Am I your target?” Devinia asked.
“No, honey.” The intruder whispered. “Your mother… she took a few jobs carelessly in her old age… made some enemies. I’m afraid our house has to remove her from service.”
Ashrava stepped up against the assassin’s back, her hand clamping down on her mouth. Devinia heard the sound of something metal cutting into flesh, and a sharp intake of air from the intruder.
“I may have made enemies, but that’s no longer your concern.” Ashrava whispered.
The assassin slipped to the floor, the thin blade falling to the ground and embedding into the wood. Ashrava guided the body down, and peeled the mask off her face.
“Aunt Mera?” Devinia asked, her voice cracking.
“Come, daughter.” Ashrava whispered. “We need to get out of here.”
“Where’s father?” she asked in reply.
Ashrava’s face hardened again. “He’s… He can’t come with us anymore.”
“Oh.” Devinia could feel tears burning in her eyes, but rubbed them away with her shirt sleeve. “I’m ready.”
“You showed me you could shadowmeld last year, didn’t you?” Ashrava asked, her eye on the door. While wrapping one’s self in shadows to hide was a common Sha’hdi use of magic, melding into them, giving one’s form to the shadow was an advanced trick and was difficult to accomplish, much less master. Devinia had practiced it relentlessly after she had been taught the basics, to try to impress her mother.
“Yes mother. I’ve kept practicing like you asked me to.” She replied.
“Good. I am going to create some light and we are going to have to shadowmeld the whole way. Can you follow me?”
“I can try, mother. I… I can do it.” Devinia admitted.
Ashrava pulled a small chalky white stone from a pouch at her belt. “Do it now.” She commanded.
She squeezed the stone until she felt it give. With one smooth motion, she yanked open the door and threw the stone. Knives rained through the opening and Ashrava jerked back out of the doorway. The room beyond, their relaxation room, burst into brilliant white light as the stone crumbled on the floor. The illumination caused four women in black leather to recoil, covering their eyes against the sudden assault upon their senses.
Devinia focused on melding into the shadows and had managed to do so in a few seconds. The world became ha
zy, indistinct. Only the areas covered in clearly defined shadow seemed real; and she was not yet skilled enough to see what was going on outside of the shadowmeld. She could tell there were shrieks of pain, some movement around her, then her mother sunk into the shadows next to her.
Together they fled, Ashrava leading the way while Devinia struggled to keep up. Moving through shadow was far faster than running, but it was only possible within contiguous pieces of shadow. Thankfully, the Lands of the Southern Moons didn’t ever see much sun, so lights were placed in the streets and buildings throughout. They were able to flee the house through the open back door, slip over the roots of the next house, and make it nearly two hundred yards before Devinia was unable to maintain her concentration. She burst out of the shadow mid stride, and she kept running.
Salthimere was a large country, split almost perfectly even into two halves. The northern half, closest to the lands of humans, was the Land of the Suns. There the Suo’hdi were most numerous, as their more positive outlook irritated the practical and far more grim Sha’hdi who lived in the southern half. The change was visible just from looking at the architecture. Most of the buildings in the Land of the Moons were made of dark, leafless wood. They were naturally formed using elven life magic to have plenty of outward spreading branches along the rooftops in twisted, interwoven patterns. They greatly cut the light of the suns down to just a glow that suffused the city during the day. Home and shop owners decorated their homes with patterns of varied cloth hangings and crystals that glowed in pretty colors.
The Sha’hdi in the streets at that time of night courteously stepped out of her way, able to see the desperation in her face. It was a normal enough occurrence; if she was fleeing this fast, it had to be for a good reason. Any perceived interference in something that could be a contract killing would then make the interloper another target. She ducked behind a storefront sign and tried to catch her breath.
Ashrava slipped out of the shadow the sign cast in the street lights, and touched her daughter’s shoulder. “Come, we move faster in the dark.”
Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain Page 10