Swift

A prologue and first chapter of a fantasy novel, written as a project piece.

Swift

Prologue.

18^th Atemas �" year of the flame dragon II

The air within the walls of the tower were musty, a cloying mix of ash and decay. Both skeletons and fresh corpses lined the corridor, some slumped haphazardly and some sprawled across the mould ridden red carpet that wound it's way to the large and intricately carved golden doors. Mitchen and Grelka stealthily crept their way down the crimson path, using a pair of large torches for light. The magical blue flames glinted off of the golden railings, illuminating the bottomless chasm below the walk way. It was ominously silent, the two thieves had even placed muffling enchantments on their heavy boots, hoping to keep their presence in the ancient ruin unknown.

“Get a move on.” Grelka hissed, casting a red eyed glare at her companion.

Mitchen was lagging behind, his hands delving into the pockets of the dead, looting as many coins and jewels as he could from the lifeless bodies.

“By Armanax's beard, leave it!” She cursed, rolling her eyes in frustration.

The large, blonde man looked up at his wife and opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his tongue when she gave him another angry glare. He shoved his bounty into a deep pocket and grumbling something about 'wasting a good opportunity to find gold' lumbered over to his spouse's side.

“The heart stone will fetch us plenty of gold my love, don't you worry about that.” Her harsh expression softened, smoothing a hand over his whisker covered cheek. Her long, black fingernails grazed lightly over his skin in a predatory fashion leaving barely perceptible red blemishes in their wake.

“It's just through here. Do you have the key?” The key itself had cost the couple a small fortune, but the prospect of what it offered had been enough for the two thieves to offer up their savings in gold and gems.

“Aye.” Mitchen grunted, pulling an elegant golden claw from the depths of this travelling bag. He Handed it to Grelka, whose scarlet eyes lit up as her fingers enclosed around the handle.

“Give me some light would you?” she asked, dropping her own torch onto the ground beside her. Mitchen silently obeyed, casting just enough light over the claw shaped key hole for Grelka to slide it into position on the first try.

Putting all the strength she had behind each movement she turned the handle twice. A loud mechanical whirring filled the corridor and gust of stale wind blew in their faces as the golden doors swung open beckoning them inside.

****

Grelka ran as fast as her legs could carry her, leaving deep bloody foot prints in the snow as she fled. Her left arm was broken, the milky white bone protruding through her charcoal coloured skin. Her lungs burned as she tried to take a breath, a mix of cold air and smoke that had her retching, collapsing onto her knees. Closing her eyes she let out a pained howl, her vision clouded by anger and sadness. Her hand clasped around the pendant she had been clutching, the curvacious 'M' insignia glowed and thrummed with an enchantment, so very alive even though it's owner had breathed his last.

Chapter one

20^th Thaantas �" Year of the Frost Dragon II

Elena watched Marrgon the lizendas as he milled about behind his market stall. She had found a perfect hiding spot, feet balancing on the beam of the wooden bridge that surrounded the market square and her head poking over the lip of the wall. She was mere inches from his long, scaly tail, and yet the humanoid lizard still didn't pick up on the thief that was eyeing up the strong box by his feet.

She didn't really care what else was inside it, she just needed the jewelled brooch that sat pride of place inside the box. Jewelled brooches were easy to come across in Arthangur, every knock off jeweller or smithy was selling them in streets and shops, but this one was different. The bear was made from refined moonstone and the purest orange amber �" a gem so rare that it cost hundreds of coin to glimpse even a tiny shard of it. Elena's client had paid handsomely for the brooch, and the young thief was determined to get her hands on it.

Marrgon was a diligent worker, who was well aware of what dangers simmered in the lower reaches of Silver Province, and so he was always careful to never leave his stand unattended, too afraid he would find all his wares in the hands of the thieves guild. Elena knew his steadfast attitude to his work would be the only problem in her otherwise run of the mill job. The locks on both the strong box and the cabinet it resided in would be easy, she had learned a lot from the elder guild members and the picking of tricky locks had quickly become her speciality. Distracting him would be another matter. She was not good enough to perform both jobs at once, not yet anyway.

She cast her eyes around the busy market square, settling on a young beggar boy clothed in rags. He was huddled up against the far wall, a moth eaten blanket wrapped around his bony shoulders. Elena smiled herself as she leapt back onto the main bridge, as elegantly as a big cat. She made her way through the bustling herd of people, hood drawn over her face to hide her features from passers by. She stopped beside the boy, kneeling down to his level. He shrunk back against the rough brickwork, burying his face in his blanket.

“Please miss d...d...don't hurt me.” He stammered, one large blue eye staring intently at the decorative dagger hanging from her belt.

“I'm not here to hurt you lad.” She dropped her voice to a soothing tone, hoping to reassure the boy. “How would you like to earn some money? Say ...” She reached into her armoured jacket and produced a red velvet purse, counting out a few gold pieces into a gloved palm. “seven gold pieces?” She watched the boy expectantly as he contemplated her offer, staring at the gold in her outstretched hand. He nodded his head enthusiastically, holding his hands out as she tipped the coins into his filthy palms.

She knew she could have bought him with half the amount; seven gold could feed and water him easily for a year at least, but the job had paid her well enough to let the coin go. Besides she had a soft spot for children like him.

“All I need you to do is go over to that man there.” she waved her hand discreetly in Marrgon's direction. “And I need you to talk to him. Try and get him to help you.”

“What shall I say?” The little boy's voice was timid, but he was loosening up, big blue eyes darting between Elena and the lizard man.

“Anything you want, use your imagination.” The boy gave an over exaggerated nod and got to his feet. “And if you meet me by Madame Pardran's in ten minutes, I'll buy you some toffees? Is it a deal.” She added the last part with a grin, seeing his already large eyes becoming the size of saucers.

“Yeah!” he cried happily. Hopping from foot to foot.

“Ok, count to twenty and then go over to him. Got that?” The little boy nodded and started counting under his breath. Elena chuckled and walked away, quickly fading into the shadows and returning to her original hiding place. She counted the seconds until she heard the boy's timid voice, shortly echoed by Marrgon's deep growl.

“Please sir! Please!” The boy begged, salty tears streaming down his face. He tugged relentlessly on the lizendas' apron.

“Hush, boy! You'll scare my customers away. Off with you!” Marrgon tried to pull the material from his grasp, scaled brows dipped low into a frown.

“Please sir! Please help me! I need to find my mum!” The boy tried again, raising his voice. His urgent tone had started to attract the attention of the other stall owners and passers by. They all looked down on the small child with eyes full of pity. A few more moments of Marrgon's reluctance passed by and with a growl, he grabbed the child's hand; following in the direction he was pointing to.

Elena made sure that the market square had returned to normal after the little burst of commotion before slipping over the wall and crouching behind the lizard's stall. Internally she thanked the guild for what must be the fiftieth time for the cloaking enchantment that weaved it's way through her clothing, allowing her to melt into the shadows; out of sight. With quick fingers she worked her pick through the locks, listening for the satisfying click that accompanied each victory. Flipping open the strong box she eyed it's contents; a few sapphires, a golden pendant on a thin chain, a whole host of gemmed rings, and in the middle, wrapped in a velvet cloth was her prize. The sparkling orange winked back at her mischievously as she picked it out of the container; carefully placing it into one of her many pockets.

“I can do no more for you, boy. Off with you!” Marggon's animalistic tone was drawing closer. Quick as a flash she closed the box and it's cabinet and jumped back over the wall and onto the bridge, blending in with passers by. She made her way through the busy square, stopping at Madame Pardran's confection consortium.

“Well, that was some fine acting!” Elena complimented the young boy who was waiting for her by the shop's door. His cheeks flushed a deep pink and his chest swelled with pride.

“Did I do well miss?”

Elena grinned and nodded her head. “You never told me your name?” she asked, bending down so they were on eye level.

“Luca”

“Well Luca, with that acting skill you may be able to help me again some time.” She returned to standing and held her hand out to him with a smile. “But for now, lets go get some toffees.”

****

The guild head quarters resided in the dank underground city that ran below Silver Province. The walls dripped with a foul smelling, yellow condensation that dripped into small puddles all across the stonework floor. The guild's front was a jewellers, a tantalizingly windowed shop run by an elderly lizendas by the name of Niyran. Elena nodded to him genially as she closed the shop's door behind her.

“Anything for me?” the scarred lizard rasped as he watched her cross the room, heading for the staircase that lead into the hideaway.

“Sorry, I was on a job. Didn't get chance to pick anything else up.” She offered apologetically. He was the best fence in Silver Province, especially when it came to jewellery or gems, but the brooch she carried had been procured by a special client, someone high up enough to have personally requested it through their guild master Oren. He would have her head if she sold it to Niyran for a mere bag of gold.

Niryan grumbled something in the back of his throat and waved her away with a taloned hand.

Walking down the steps to the hideaway was a dangerous feat without light. The slime covered stair beckoning her to fall with each tread, but after a year of finding her home amongst the rag tag band of burglars and pickpockets, she navigated the companionway with ease.

As a people, the thieves of Silver Province were a predictable group, and Elena chuckled when she emerged into the hideaway, finding her surrogate family in the same places they had been when she left hours earlier. Anton and Fargol were sat playing a round of cards, with piles of coin stacked by their elbows, Betryna sat cross legged on her bed, palms outstretched as she murmured an incantation to keep the ball of flame hovering above them. Grelka, Oren and Bartlett bent over the desk in the far corner, discussing something in hushed tones. She made her way across the wooden bridge and dropped the brooch onto the table in front of her guild master.

“You really need to give me something that challenges me Oren! A toddler could do these jobs.” She teased, but her eyes told the elder man that she was serious.

“There is no need to be a hero, Elena.” Grelka admonished, eyeing the younger woman with a haughty crimson stare.

“I'm not trying to be a hero. I just want something more than this! Something more that bit jobs that I can run in a few hours.” Grelka opened her mouth to reply, but Elena cut the grey elf off, turning back to her commander. “Please Oren! Just give me a chance, you know I can do it. You've seen me work.”

“Enough, Elena.” The greying man replied, his tone edged with annoyance. “You will have your chance some day. We all must bide our time.”

Elena sighed, rolling her eyes, her attitude reminiscent of a teenager that's fed up with the over bearing nature of her parents.

“You could always look in the ledger? Maybe there's something that could keep you entertained for a while?” Bartlett suggested, offering Elena a soft smile. “come on, I'll look with you.” He placed a firm hand on Elena's back leading her away from the desk.

“Father didn't mean it Lena. You know he only has what's best for you in mind.”

“But I'm so sick of the same old things! I'm going stale here, B.” she protested looking up at her friend. His dark eyes looked at her pityingly, and one corner of his mouth flickered into a frown. He opened the glass cabinet and pulled out a large leather bound book; the guild's ledger. The spine creaked when opened, the thick, yellowing pages were filled with scratched, ink scribblings. Bartlett dragged his finger down the list.

“There's a smash and grab in Snowfell? Or a numbers job in The West City?”

Elena shook her head with a sigh. “they're just regular jobs. I need something exciting. Something challenging!” She nudged her friend out of the way, flipping through the pages herself. An old and crumpled page slipped out, floating it's way onto the floor.

****

Elena squinted her eyes, trying to see the tiny symbol beneath the pad of Bartlett's finger. The map that they were poring over was ancient and faded; the paper having turned a deep ochre, the corners fraying through it's years of life.

“They say that it's here. Deep in the ruins of T'Siaris' temple.”

“Who's they?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. The rickety piece of furniture creaked and wobbled dangerously at the movement.

“The monks of Angur.”

“And so that means what for us?” Even though Elena had lived her entire life roaming the planes of Arthangur, she had never settled in any one place long enough to learn about the culture of an area. Her job required her to remain unknown, letting her to slip through the shadows; emptying pockets and lock boxes as she went.

Bartlett smiled at her patiently, running his free hand through his dark hair.

“It means it's going to be dangerous. There's no way of knowing what protects the heart stone until we're down there.”

The corner of Elena's lips twitched. “And what's wrong with a little bit of danger?”