23rd Year of the King, 90th day of spring, Saelenta

The small gold coins dropped quietly into Danis’s waiting palm from the hole he had cut in the underside of some man’s coin purse. The boy was small and quick. He slipped past this target and onto the next, making his way across the crowded streets of Merchant’s Path. Another cut and more fell into his palm. The work was delicate, but had an easy rhythm to it. Make the cut, palm the prize, then move on to the next waiting purse. Cut, palm, move. Cut, palm, move. Danis was well practiced at it; he had been at it since he could remember. When done right, it was quiet and efficient work.

That was easy enough in the harbor city of Saelenta - The Great Gate to the East. The sun did not shine there, being in permanent occultation by a moon resolute in blocking it out. Other cities in Syude might have a few dim days a year, but in Saelenta it was always midnight with only stars to provide light where torches or gas lamps did not. That sort of thing could happen when a goddess dies in your streets. That was what Danis had heard once at least, but he had no time for legends with a quota to worry about.

He ducked behind a merchant’s stall bearing an odd assortment of jewelry and baubles, and dropped his bounty into a pouch he had secured to his chest beneath his shirt. Danis snuck back out and continued his work following the wide, cobblestone street as it led to the docks. The tall stone buildings of Merchants’ Path gave way to the more squat buildings of the Harbor District. Danis thought they looked a little like the crooked teeth in the gaping mouth of some world-eating giant. His stomach rumbled loudly, inaudible against the low rumble of the crowd. What time was it? He could see the top of the harbormaster’s building from where he stood, and the large clock attached to the street-side face of its tower. The glass face of the clock was backlit from the inside by gas lanterns, just like the ones positioned atop poles on the streets. It was nearly three in the afternoon. There would be time enough for food after he met his quota.

The afternoon crowd grew thicker the closer he came to the docks and the work became slow, cramped and careful. The change of pace allowed him to notice something he did not notice earlier when the crowd was thinner and the work quicker. A few patrons out of every dozen or so yielded a coin that felt odd among the others in his grasp. They were lighter and shaped oddly, maybe six or eight-sided; he could not tell without looking, and he had a press of people to navigate.

When he reached the Harbor Master’s plaza, the clock began to chime out the hour. He jingled the pouch beneath his shirt; it was nearly full. A decent take for a quick afternoon’s run. He darted into a nearby alley and located a storm drain. It was already loosely open from some other orphan returning to their Cartel master just as he was on his way back to his. The Cartel employed many children to exact its street tax. Saelenta was a very profitable shipping hub, everyone knew that. Danis was old enough to know that this was no accident. The city claimed no tariffs on shipping, and was the only way goods came or went from the Eyeda to the East. The Cartel’s network of child pickpockets and cutpurses collected a street tax to make up for that. Danis had been recruited at a young age in exchange for food, shelter, and a cut, a very small cut, of his take.

Danis went to his pouch and pulled out a long, thick match and oiled cloth from within. The tip of the match was coated in a red powder that would slough off if mishandled, so Danis was always careful with them. He struck it against the edge of the grate. It sparked and caught fire quickly. Danis wrapped the oiled cloth around it and ducked through the open grate, replacing it behind. He snuck in a crouch through the winding stone corridors of the city’s storm sewer. He came upon a crossroads in his path with a large circular paver at its base. He searched around the corners, and located a brick that had a crescent moon enveloped in a sunburst carved into it. Danis kicked the brick inward, and the paver at the center of the crossing swung open, under the floor of the sewer. The hole in the sewer flickered with torchlight beneath with reflections shimmering off of a ladder that led the way down. Danis extinguished his makeshift torch in a nearby puddle and descended into the tunnel below.

The ladder led down to taller tunnels below, lit by torches on iron sconces. Danis followed the labyrinth through its winding corridors and many forked paths until he came to a large hexagonal room, empty on both sides with a massive stone arch at its opposite end. A lone figure stood before the archway. It was his Cartel master behind an ornate wooden podium with the sunburst crescent moon carved figure on its front. Danis knew he was not alone, the masters were never alone. Somewhere in the shadows were his guards waiting in the event something went wrong - not a common occurrence when dealing with children, but a precaution still.

Danis reached under his shirt and detached his pouch. His take in hand, he approached the podium.

“Hello Danis of Lowtown. Late again,” the man said to him quietly, “but not too late.” Trevis of Sekarian was a slim man with his brown hair trimmed close to his scalp. Danis thought he had a sneaky look about him. He imagined the hidden guards looked even sneakier, though.

“Here’s my work for the afternoon,” Danis stated, placing the pouch on the edge of the podium.

Trevis dumped the contents of the pouch out, separating the good coins from the loose pieces of dirt, lint, and stone. He paused for a moment and sighed. Trevis plucked out several coins from the pile and put them aside with the rest of the junk. They were the odd coins that Danis had been noticing in his palms.

“More of these. Betting chips from some new hall, I’m guessing. We’ll have to take care of that,” Trevis said as he separated them from the main pile.

He plucked two of the smaller gold coins from the pile, put them back into the pouch, and returned the pouch to Danis stating, “Your share, Danis.”

Trevis looked down at Danis’s hand with a curious look on his face, then asked him, “What’s this on your hand, boy?”

He took Danis by the wrist, and turned it up to catch the flicker of torchlight. Danis dropped his coin pouch to the ground.

“Hey!” he shouted at Trevis.

“Watch it, you little bastard,” Trevis warned, clenching his fist on the podium, “just wanted to have a look at your hand.”

Danis looked at his upturned palm. It was stained a deep red.

“What’s this?” Trevis asked again. “You hurt, boy?”

“No,” Danis said as he jerked his hand free from the man’s grip.

Trevis let him go, and Danis knelt to the ground and scooped up the coin pouch. He tied it in a quick knot around the cord looped around his waist. Danis turned around to the archway and the stone wall beneath it. Trevis pushed some button that Danis could not see, and the wall slid aside to another lit corridor behind. Danis eyed those suspicious coins.

“You are free to have some food or rest if you desire,” Trevis said, turning around to face the boy again. “We have aid if you are ever hurt as well, lad.”

Danis had no desire to sleep in crowded rooms of cots within the sewers of Saelenta. As little as it was worth, he preferred his makeshift shelter hidden on the roof of a Lowtown tenement to a sewer.

“May I have one of those ‘betting chips’ instead?”

Trevis stood there for a moment, silent as the grave. With a quick motion he plucked one of the chips from among the junk and flicked it to Danis. He caught the coin deftly in his right hand, not offering it any attention for now.

“I’ll be back later,” the boy said as he turned and walked out of the room.

“I’ll be here again around ten o’clock. Return here with a full pouch then if you need food or a place to rest for the night!“ he heard Trevis shout behind him over the sound of the stone door sliding shut.

As Danis made his way out of the labyrinth, he glanced at the odd coin for the first time. It was painted porcelain and seven-sided, not six or eight like he thought. One side had circle of blood drops painted on it arrayed as if they were dropping toward the center. Danis flipped the coin over. The droplets were smudged on the reverse side, and smeared over the coin’s surface in the same color that stained his hand. How did Trevis not have his hands stained red from handling these coins?

He touched the coin’s red, smeared face with his left hand but nothing rubbed off on this hand. The paint appeared to have dried already. Oddly, the paint on his right hand began to vanish. Convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him, he blinked. His right hand had no trace of red on it anymore. The coin however, still had his fingerprints on them. Danis put the coin in the pocket sewn into the inside the waistline of his pants.

The Cartel paid little in gold, but did offer food and shelter for the city’s homeless or downtrodden children. It was a decent arrangement, though Danis preferred to avoid it if possible. All he had to do was collect their street tax. But, Danis had another employer that paid him for information and paid him well. The coin itself was interesting, but it wasn’t enough by itself to warrant a good payout. He would need to know more. How many of the other children working for the Cartel had found the same odd coins? Trina would be able to help with that.

Trina of Lowtown had been the girl that taught Danis how to pickpocket and cutpurse for the Cartel. He had long since forgotten his own mother, but would never forget Trina who was like a big sister to him. When she had recently turned fifteen, Trina had been forgiven her debt of food and shelter from the Cartel and had been awarded some new position within the organization; though Danis did not know what it was. He only knew that she worked her evenings in the kitchen at The Flute and Flagon pub in Hightown.

Trina and Danis both grew up in the slums of Lowtown which was separated from the docks and Merchant’s Path to its west by a high stone wall. To Lowtown’s north was the gated wealth of Hightown, separated from Lowtown by a large hill and an even taller stone wall. The gates were well guarded and the walls well patrolled, which is why Danis always took the storm sewer network to get there. It was a less direct path, and took him until late afternoon to get there from the docks.

The front entrance to the Flute and Flagon was not welcoming to the poorly dressed residents of Lowtown, but the kitchen staff always welcomed him if he came in through the alley entrance. Despite the wealth of the crowd that the pub served, the kitchen space was small and unadorned. It was also unbearably hot. The clay floors and low ceiling held on to too much heat from the large brick oven that was built into the corner. The alley doorway had to be left open at all times.

Trina was at the stove taking a loaf of kora bread out while putting another one in its place.

“Trina!” Danis shouted at her, smiling widely at the girl.

“Danis!” she shouted as she turned and leaned down to hug him, careful not to get the flour from her apron on him. Trina had shoulder length, curly, brown hair and a kind face. She had grown taller recently, and was no longer the young girl that used to look after him. The strangeness of it seemed to occur to her too.

“I have to ask you about something,” said Danis, breaking off the hug.

“Sure, let’s step outside. I could use a break from this heat.”

Trina removed her apron and hung it on a peg on the wall near the alley door as they walked out of the pub.

“What can you tell me about this?” Danis produced the porcelain coin and handed it to Trina.

“Are you going to that silversmith again to sell some information?” she said as she held the coin in the light of the doorway to get a good look at it. Trina looked puzzled as she turned the coin over in her hands, noting Danis’s smeared red fingerprints on one face.

Information usually fetched a fair price in Saelenta. Merchants, shop owners, and politicians all offered coin for any knowledge that gave them an advantage over their competitors. They often paid well for it, and much better than Danis earned from collecting the street tax for the Cartel.

“I am. I don’t think this will sell for much on its own, though. All I know is that a few people had them in their pockets on my run of Merchant’s Path. Trevis seemed to have seen it before. He thought it was a betting chip.”

“That’s useless information, no point in selling that. They don’t make betting chips out of something that can shatter,” Trina said as she flipped the coin up into the air, it sung with a high pitch as it went up; she snatched the coin from the air as it descended. “You said he had seen them before, though. What do you think that means?” She asked, goading him to think critically about what he did know.

“Some of the other kids have been turning these into the Masters,” Danis offered after considering her question for a moment.

She smiled at him, “Very good! The Cartel has been receiving these from its pickpockets for weeks now.”

Trina had been doing that for him ever since she had moved up in the Cartel. She seemed to want the same thing for him. Her insistence on this sort of training led Danis to believe that not all of the cutpurse children were accepted into the Cartel. He wondered what happened to the kids that didn’t move up.

“Trevis is partly right to suspect a rogue gambling hall. But, my sources suspect that it’s another group starting up and taking over territory little by little. I can’t say for sure, but it seems that many children that get coins like these end up disappearing. They might be getting recruited from the Cartel to this new thing. They might be paying better than the Cartel, who knows”

“Huh,” Danis replied to the last part, perplexed.

“I’m not sure of that either, though. The Cartel’s little work horses are disappearing all over, though, that much is certain.” Trina tossed the coin back at Danis telling him, “I can’t tell you anything about those coins, I’m sorry Danis. I’d get rid of it. Bad luck, and creepy too.”

“Thanks anyway,” Danis said, sullen.

“Hey, look. I better head back in. That ought to be worth more to that Silversmith than just the coin.” She leaned in again and gave him a tight hug. “Don’t go off getting lost, Danis.”

“I’ll be careful,” he whispered and hugged her back.

Then, Trina went back into the overbearing heat of the Flute and Flagon’s kitchen. Danis had heard the worry in her voice. He’d never heard that from her before. He looked into the kitchen and watched her attend to the oven once more. He looked down at the coin he held in the palm of his right hand. Its pure white form fit neatly in his palm. The circle of blood drops on the one side shined brightly in the lights of the kitchen like the petals of kora blossoms. The other side was a red, smeared mystery; a mystery he hoped the silversmith could solve.

He turned away and looked down the alleyway into the street beyond. A bustling crowd covered the stone paved street, going about their business in the typical hurried fashion of the people of Hightown. The opulence of Hightown was presented before him in their silk gowns, fine woolen suits, high leather boots and jewelry at the necks and wrists of nearly all of them. But, something from the crowd stood out, something very strange. Nearly hidden in an alleyway just across from his alley was the tallest man Danis had ever seen, standing over two heads taller than the tallest from among crowd. This gaunt figure was not wearing the same quality of clothing as the people of Hightown; far from it. It wore a plain, yet filthy, sackcloth robe with a cowled hood pulled so far over its head, Danis could not see its face. The robe was torn, beaten, and frayed at the edges with wisps of loose fabric hanging from it. The figure turned its head toward Danis, and cocked it to the side like it was looking directly at him. That sent a chill through Danis, aching to his bones. He hurriedly turned away from it, and headed to the Silversmith’s house.

Danis knew the figure was following him as he snuck through the alleys of Hightown. Knowing when you were being followed was something the young thieves had learned to recognize quickly. That was the first part of a valuable lesson, the second part was losing the stalker. This part was giving Danis the most trouble. Even though he had been winding a seemingly random path through the streets and alleys of Hightown, every time he had glanced back over his shoulder, he could see its gaunt shape towering over the evening crowds in the distance, growing ever closer.

Torches and gas lamps flickered and snuffed out along the paths the cloaked stranger walked. A rolling darkness swept the streets of Hightown, driving its blackness in his direction, and leaving hundreds stranded in its darkened streets. The man walked slow and purposeful at the grey edge between the dark and the light. Then, to Danis’s horror, the man pulled back his cowl revealing only shadows beneath it. The shadow creature bellowed a bone numbing howl, shed the rest of its robes, and dropped to all fours in pursuit of its prey.

Danis felt something wet dripping down his leg coming from the pocket sewn into the waist of his pants. He reached into it and saw the coin there dripping red, and soaking through the linen of his pants. He now knew the red liquid for what it was - blood. The smell of copper filled his nose, and dread sank deep into his stomach. The edge of shadow and the creature were closing too fast now, he bolted off in the opposite direction, wherever that would lead him.

The darkness pushed him along a strange path through the streets of Hightown, and straight into a dead end. The pitch black edge of night pushed closer toward him, and the nearby gas lights from apartment windows began to flicker wildly then were extinguished. Danis frantically reached into his pouch for a match, and dropped several of them by accident onto the ground. He could hear the clawing getting closer and closer. He knelt to grab one of the dropped matches, feeling around for it on the dirty, coarse alley floor. The clawing stopped suddenly, and Danis found a match. He grasped tightly in his shaking hands and struck it on the ground.

It sprung to life and lit his surroundings with brighter light than he had ever known one of these Cartel matches to offer. Before him were large clawed hands leading up to that four legged beast standing taller than Danis by a head or more. Its posture wasn’t like a dog or a cat, but like that of a human that was just kneeling on all fours. It was jet black and hairless, as far as he could tell. Shadows poured off it like steam rising from a warm body of water on a cold night. Its face was like a man’s that was weathered with centuries of age. The shadow beast’s eyes, milky white pools, blinked and recoiled from the light of the match behind a set of eyelids that swept across from the side.

The beast covered its eyes and growled at the light, but it did not extinguish like the others had. The creature had little control over the match, and recoiled away from it. Danis drew the small dagger he used for cutting open purses, and stepped cautiously toward the beast. It took a step back. After running from this thing for so long, he finally felt a sense of power in the situation. Fear left him, and anger replaced it eagerly.

The shadow beast seemed to sense this, and began that chilling howl it had let out when the chase began. It stepped back toward Danis, turning its head away from the light in the process. It lifted its long taloned right hand as if to strike at Danis. His window of opportunity was quickly closing. Danis leaned forward and drove the dagger up through the bottom of the beast’s chin.

Another howl seemed to catch in its throat with a soft gurgle. It stumbled back with a quick jerk, and tore the dagger from Danis’s hand. He heard it clatter to the ground somewhere in front of him as the beast fled. Emboldened, Danis ran to follow it and caught a glimpse of it as it scaled a wall and disappeared into the darkness. Danis did not question his fortune in this situation any longer; he found his dagger lying in a pool of ichor on the ground and ran toward the silversmith’s forge.

Marius the Silversmith had a small shop in the winding streets of a small market in Hightown. The buildings were not separated at all save by decorated facades used to distinguish where one shop ended and another began. Marius’s shop was at the corner of one street, and was offered room enough for a small forge out front by virtue of being on a slightly larger lot. The forge was glowing coldly and the shop’s split door was shut, closed for the night. Danis ran to the door and pounded on it while impatiently rattling the handle.

Moments later a black haired, middle age man with long beard opened the top of the door. “Child, the shop is closed,” Marius growled. Danis’s senses returned to him then, and realized his mistake. The arrangement was that he was to always use the back door in the alley behind the house. There was no way Marius would hear him tonight, he might not wish to pay him for information again.

The day so far rushed over him in a torrent. His eyes began to well up as tears started to sneak out. “My pardon, sir,” he said as he turned and stepped away, wiping his eyes with his right hand. He turned to walk away, and the coin slipped from his grasp pinging loudly on the cobblestone street. Danis decided to just leave it where it landed, not wanting to anger Marius further with his presence at the front door of the shop.

Danis was starting to pick up his pace down the street when he heard Marius yell from behind him, “Boy! Boy!”

Danis stopped and turned. Marius was outside the shop holding the coin, turning it over in his palm.

“Are you hurt, boy?” the Silversmith asked him.

Danis looked down at the red stain running down the front of his pants.

“No, sir,” he replied as he wiped tears from his eyes.

Marius leaned over the top of the door, and looked Danis over. He pursed his lips and sighed loudly through his nostrils. He looked out over the city below, to the Gulf just past the shores and docks.

“You should come in for the night. Wind’s picking up from the Talest Gulf, it’s going to be a cold one.” Danis nodded and followed Marius into the shop. Marius stayed behind outside for a moment, doing something with the gas lamp above the door. It began to flicker wildly.

“Damned thing never worked right,” he laughed as he closed the door behind him. “There’s dinner on the table,” he paused gesturing toward Danis trying to remember his name.

“Danis. I’m Danis of Lowtown.”

“I’m called Marius,” the silversmith said as he extended his hand to shake Danis’s.

“I know,” Danis replied.

“Right, why don’t you have what I prepared for myself and tell me about this coin,” he held it up in front of Danis with a concerned expression.

Danis was much hungrier than he thought, he wolfed down the roast pork and potatoes while spitting out bits of the story as well as he could. “Pickpocketed that one out of some purse in Merchant’s Path,” he gulped down a large bite of potato. “The Cartel doesn’t want them, they think they’re gambling chips from some new ha-” he choked on a bit of food.

“Slow down there,” Marius said softly and handed Danis a cup of table wine. “Here, drink this, but take it easy. I’d get you something else, but I don’t have drink fit for children. Now son, let’s continue.”

Danis slurped down some wine, “It’s not a gambling hall, it’s something else. The Cartel’s pickpockets have been disappearing.” He put down the cup and pondered at a piece of the roast. “There was this thing, like a living shadow. It chased me across Hightown.”

“A shadow?” Marius asked, seeming genuinely interested.

“Yes! Well, it was a tall person in a cowled robe at first. It was following me down alleys as I came here. It screamed, or howled out, a terrible sound. The thing was all darkness underneath its robes. Shadows rolled off its skin like steam!” Danis took a bite of the roast. “The lamps and streetlights started to go out and the darkness started chasing me. It cornered me after, well, I don’t know how long I was running. I lit a match then, and the beast was there in front of me. It was scared of the light or something. I stabbed it and ran away as fast as I could.”

Marius stared at him for a while then asked, “Is that everything?”

“Yes, then I came here.”

He walked off behind the merchandise counter at the front of the shop. He knelt behind it and began searching for something. When he came back to the table, he handed Danis a purse packed full of coin, “For your trouble. There is a small room past the counter behind that door,” he pointed the way. “There’s a bed in there that you may use for the night. My room is upstairs. I suggest we both retire for the night.”

Danis looked down at the now empty plate and realized how tired he was. He headed off, pensively, to the small room with the bed. The bed was a simple feather bed on a warped oak frame with a heavy wool blanket strewn haphazardly across it. A writing desk sat across from the foot of the bed, filling up the rest of the available room in the cramped space. He had to step around bulk of the heavy oak door as he shut it behind him. The desk was clean and unadorned aside from a single, nearly burned out, candle and a few loose pieces of parchment with a quill and inkpot. This was an apprentice’s quarters, though Danis had not known Marius to ever have an apprentice. He approached the bed, and tested it with his hand. Danis had never felt a bed so soft in all his life. He climbed in without hesitation.

Beyond the dim candle on the desk, more light crept in from the crack under the door, and between cracks in the ceiling from what seemed to be Marius’s room above. Dust fell down from the cracks as Marius walked about on the floor above; he grabbed the wool blanket and pulled it over his head to keep the dust off. The shuffling continued for a time above him then stopped, but the light stayed on. That comforted him, and sleep came.

Danis woke with a start. The candle had started to flicker wildly creating a dance of light and shadow on walls. The image set his heart racing, pounding up into his throat. The same dance seemed to be happening outside the door, and in the room above him. The failing light in the room above winked out, followed soon by the light under the door. He curled up tightly in the bed, and clutched tightly to the blanket. The candle flame seemed to be fighting to hold on to its tenuous grasp on the wick. Danis hoped desperately that the candles were just going out, as they normally do. But, his hopes were dashed as he saw inky black shadow seeping through the cracks in the ceiling. It crept slowly across the ceiling to the walls, where it poured down along them like molasses. More poured in under the door and took shape into a pool at the foot of the bed.

The brave candle flame lost its battle, and went out leaving Danis trapped in the darkness. He pulled the blanket over his head and tried his best to hold back his sobbing. The beast was coming for him, and it would get him this time. He heard a deep inhalation of breath followed by a low rattle of exhalation. The tiny room echoed with soft padded footsteps of the beast approaching the bed. The blanket was jerked away from him, and now he could no longer stay quiet.

“No!” he sobbed and pleaded breathlessly, “Please leave me alone.”

He felt a cold hand grasp his left forearm. The edge of sharp claws raked against his skin, and cut through as they clenched his arm. He jerked back, but the grip was too tight. Danis kicked out with both feet as hard as he could in the direction of the intruder. Another hand grabbed his right leg at the ankle. Panic set in as it pulled Danis from the bed. He landed with a thud on the floor next to the bed, striking his head on the floorboards.

His head swam, and he saw a subtle red glow coming from the door. It was growing brighter as he felt the shadow pulling him to lift him up. Danis began to resist again as his senses returned to him. The red glow drew closer and closer. Then, it was directly behind the beast, raised high above it. He saw the beast then for the second time. Black ichor oozed out from the wound he gave it under its chin and dripped onto Danis’s shirt.

The glow was from a hammer. It wasn’t a carpenter’s hammer or even the kind he had seen smiths use before. Its handle was longer than most and made of metal. At its tip was a large block of metal covered in runes, and glowing as if fresh from the forge. The silversmith stood behind the beast, holding the glowing hammer high above his head.

“Get down, Danis!” he screamed.

The beast turned its head to see behind it, and caught the downswing of the hammer in its maw. It collapsed into the bed, giving Danis enough room to escape the narrow confines of the bedroom. He turned back at the doorway, and saw Marius leaning over the beast with a heavy iron collar attached to a chain leash. Three angular runes were carved into the band of the collar, and glowed just like the ones on the silversmith’s hammer. The beast scrambled to get back up, but Marius struck it again with the red hammer and screamed some word at him that was unintelligible to Danis.

Marius clasped the collar about its neck and screamed for Danis to leave the room. Danis obeyed gladly. He turned to run from the dimly lit shop, but was stopped in his tracks by the firm grip of a stranger’s hand on his arm. The stranger, tall and very strong, spun him around and pulled him in tight into an iron embrace so he could scarcely move.

“Easy now child, you’re safe now so long as you stay close to us,” a man’s voice spoke calmly over Danis’s quiet sobs. Danis jerked away and looked around the shop. Three others stood there now, blocking his exit.

By the door stood a large man, wide in the upper body, barrel chested and a good head taller than Marius. His bore a scar just under his chin that left a bald spot in his otherwise uninterrupted, thick red beard connected to his short cropped hair. Danis guessed him to be a patrolman just relieved from his guard. He was still in the customary bright polished ringmail under a city guard tabard with a longsword at his belt and a shield on his back. The tabard was eggshell white with the golden crescent moon symbol of Saelenta embroidered on its chest. A set of triangles at the top left of the tabard marked the man’s rank, but Danis did not know what it was.

The man that had grabbed him appeared to be the eldest in the group, even older than Marius. A woman rushed to his side and knelt before Danis. Her face seemed kind at first, but contained a harshness behind grey eyes. She donned a forced smile.

“Be easy, child,” she said in a soothing tone that Danis had seldom heard from anyone.

“I am Mara, you are safe so long as you listen to us. You cannot flee. If that one is unable to get to you, another will take its place. You have been marked.” She grabbed his right hand by the wrist, and turned his stained palm upward.

Danis felt the warmth drain from his face as the cold realization washed over him.

“I’d listen to her, lad,” the patrolman offered in a gravelly, basso voice, “The Lost are relentless when summoned. Your only refuge is here with us. They can sniff you out and your messy little hand from across a continent. They -”

“Emery!” the older man snapped cutting the man off before he could speak another word.

“Fear is not the proper implement for this situation. It will do us no good here!” He leaned on an old walking stick and pounded it on the floor for emphasis.

“It would serve him well to be afraid, Laric! You know what hunts the boy!” Emery snapped back, stepping away from his post at the door to approach the old man.

An argument started between them. Emery towered over the old man and began poking him in the chest with his finger, making accusatory statements. Over the scuffle, Danis heard hushed words coming from the room where Marius was. He looked through the door to the bedroom to see Marius standing over the beast. It was cowed, and laid on the floor like a beaten hound. But, Marius was talking to it, and when he did, the beast spoke back. Its words sounded like the language he had heard Marquesmen mercenaries speak once down at the harbor. He looked up at Mara, who had left herself out of the squabble between Laric and Emery.

“It speaks Marquese?” he asked her, trying to understand how such a monster could speak any human language at all.

Marius stood then, and gave Danis a puzzled look. “It speaks what used to be Marquese, long ago. But how do you know that?”

Danis glanced again at the beast they had refer to as The Lost, it now tried to cover its face the best it could. The little amount of light in the shop seemed to be painful to it, and for whatever reason, it was powerless to extinguish it as he had seen happen before. Danis felt a little safer now, but not by much.

“I heard a mercenary band speak it once. They were trying to bully the harbor master down at the docks, yelling at him. It sounded a little like that. I picked their pockets while they were arguing. My master told me the coins were from Ridgemarque. I got a larger cut that day, you don’t forget days like that.”

“Indeed, it takes some amount of skill to catch a Marquesman off their guard. I sure wouldn’t forget that,” Mara said with a hint of surprise in her soft voice.

Marius left the tiny bedroom, bringing the creature in tow on a short silver chain that was attached to the collar.

“We must take care of this tonight, The Lost has agreed to lead us to the cultists that summoned it on the condition that we release it from its geas,” he told the room, “get the boy. He will have to come with us. They have been summoning its kin rather unsuccessfully so far. There are few others guarding their hideout in Lowtown, this was the only one hunting in the streets.”

“I must protest, Marius, respectfully,” Laric croaked, clearing his throat. “We should send for the Executor, we are ill equipped -”

“We have no time for this, Laric. Emric is a week away by sea, and more than a month away by land. Not to mention the time it would take to send a request back to the Aerogath for him. We have no options here,” Mara offered.

“I have to agree with Laric,” Emery stated calmly, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “Emric is our option here, Marius. He would put them all to the sword as easy as breathing.”

“Even if he were close enough, Emric is indisposed. I received word this morning.” Marius stated, staring down Laric and Emery with disdain at being questioned and second guessed. “The cult that has taken hold here may be already close to their objective. We must rip them out ourselves, root and stem. Remember your oaths. We are Oathsworn, this is our only purpose here.”

“Marius is right,” Mara reiterated. She strode past Danis to be closer to Laric and spoke in dulcet tones to him. “We may have time on our side here, they could be far away from completing their task. But do you really believe we have weeks to spare? Someone is summoning these creatures and binding them to their dark purpose. That is no small feat.”

Her docile nature faded, and her face became hard as granite, “I am Oathsworn, I remember my oath. Remember yours.”

Oathsworn. Fear took hold of Danis in its icy grasp. They were supposed to be myth, legend. They were godslayers, and demon hunters if the tales were to be believed. Trina used to tell Danis stories of them to scare him. They would raze entire towns to the ground if they found malignancy there. Oathsworn would kill women and children without hesitation to prevent a cult from spreading. Marius had beaten this monster into submission, and made it join with their cause. What would they do with him when they were done?

Danis’s breaths became short and quick, almost asthmatic. The thumping in his chest became a pounding drum that he was certain they could hear. The beast looked up at him then, and he stared into its empty white pools. He stared into its anguish and pain. Yet behind that, Danis saw the truth of its nature. It still hungered for him. It was not as beaten as he had thought. Only a thin silver strand and a brittle iron collar kept it from him. He found himself clutching at the dagger he kept beneath his tunic as he backed slowly toward the door of the silversmith’s shop and began to unlatch the lock quietly. It made a subtle click when it freed itself from the door. Marius noticed him then.

“Emery! The boy!” he yelled.

Emery grabbed him by the back of his neck, and tried pulling him closer. Danis wrenched free, but the man was too swift for him. Emery took Danis by his left elbow and jerked the boy toward him, moving him several feet with effortless ease. Danis bared his teeth and stabbed the large man in his right leg, just above the knee. Emery howled a string of curses, and his grip on Danis broke.

Danis jumped at his opportunity to escape and barreled through the lower part of the shop’s split door. He fled into the night to the sound of screaming as the Oathsworn chased after him. They would not catch him tonight, it would be all over for him if they did.

Hightown was fast asleep by now, there would be no crowds that he could lose himself in. His only refuge would be in the storm sewers he so often called home. He ran a random path through the streets until he was sure they had lost him, and slipped quickly into a storm drain to catch his breath. He waited there for several minutes, trying to calm himself enough to listen for them. Danis heard no sign of approach or any hint that he had been followed. Relieved, he allowed himself a moment of rest to soothe his frayed nerves. Where would he go? He was certain that they would hunt him until they found him. Either The Lost or The Oathsworn would have him for whatever purposes they had in mind. Saelenta was no longer safe, but in reality, it never had been. He had to leave it all behind now.

He could reach the docks in several hours through the sewer network under Sealenta. The path would have to be winding to ensure he could not be tracked easily if they found his trail in the sewers.It could take all night to get there. From there, he could stow away on a ship going anywhere - anywhere but here. He produced another large match and lit it, then wrapped it in oilcloth. The stain on his right hand had faded away again. Danis did not question providence, but he did not know how long it would be before his hand was stained red again. He started off on his long journey to the docks, feeling a little safer down in the darkness of the sewers with his meager light to guide him.

Danis emerged many hours later from a grate near the docks where the sewer runoff dumped into the Talest Gulf. He climbed up the salt-worn stonework to the paved road of the Merchant’s Path. He looked around to get his bearings. The harbormaster’s clock, a few blocks north, told the time. It was nearly six in the morning. His stomach rumbled loudly, and he felt weak from the night he had spent fleeing here instead of sleeping. Merchant carts had begun filling the streets to attend to their stalls. A trio of lighthouses spun their lanterns around and lit up the waters of the Talest Gulf. Danis could spot the tall sails of several ships peaking over the squat buildings of the harbor, and he began a slow approach toward them.

A strong hand gripped him at his left shoulder, and spun him around quickly. Another swiftly grabbed him by the neck, and squeezed until he was left gasping for air. He looked up and saw Marius standing there alone boring into him with an iron gaze.

“Listen to me now, Danis,” Marius growled in a low voice that only Danis could hear. “You have a choice to make. You are a resourceful, smart lad. I know you will understand the gravity of what I am about to tell you. So, I will only tell you this once. Are you ready to listen?”

Danis nodded, and choked out a meek “Yes.”

“Good. We spent several hours last night looking for you before attending to our purpose here. The cult we found had been taking urchins from the streets and murdering them by the score. Words cannot do justice to what I saw… you are incredibly fortunate to have escaped the same fate.” He let out a short laugh that became a cough. He spat blood onto the pavers.

“That’s done now, we set their shambled shacks afire and cut down those that fled the flames. The Lost returned from where they came and will be left to their unrest for now. Laric was right in suggesting we needed stronger support for this. I alone survived. Emery may have as well if you had not seen fit to injure him in your selfish escape. It would seem my work here is done. But, it is not yet.

“We Oathsworn value secrecy above all else. Without that, our enemies would know of our coming. Without secrecy, they would know that we watch them. Without secrecy, we would be unable to stem the tide of darkness that seeks to return to our world. We cannot allow that to happen. Secrets must be kept and loose ends must be wrapped up tightly. As it stands now, you are the only loose end here.

“So, you have a choice, child. You may come with me to the Aerogath. I will report my findings to the Archivists and bring you before the Masters to be accepted as a novice of our order. You will be well taken care of, and may one day take Oaths of your own. This place will become a distant memory to you. Few grown men can say they have seen one of The Lost.”

Marius’s face grew somber, ”And even those prepared to face them fall. You would be an asset to us.”

The silversmith’s eyes hardened now, and he tightened his grip on Danis’s neck, lifting him above the ground to eye level - Danis’s legs left dancing to some unheard tune as they flailed in the air. He felt his face turn red as an unbearable pressure built up.

“Or, a patrolman can find another urchin’s corpse bloodied in the gutter. Another victim of this wretched city - unknown, and uncared for.

“The choice is yours.”

He dropped Danis to the ground then, and he fell to his hands and knees gasping for air that he could not get enough of. His vision darkened as he fought to hold onto consciousness. When stability came to him, he stood and looked up at Marius. He no longer saw the silversmith standing there, but a man ready to end his life should he answer incorrectly.

Danis looked around the cold stone streets of Saelenta. People were starting go about their business for the day. Children like him could be seen in the alleyways and behind merchant stalls, waiting to begin their own work - their endless toil for a hope of a small amount of pocket change, small amount of food, and meager shelter. He looked back to the docks where the sails stood tall above the buildings. Even if he could make it to one and escape Marius, he would likely be thrown out at sea once he was discovered as a stowaway. Then he thought of Trina who had cared for him as long as he could remember. Her best advice and guidance had only prolonged the struggle of his existence. It was all she had the power to do in Saelenta. Any choice he made would mean he would never see her again. Tears rolled down his cheeks wiping clean the dirt on his face along their path.

His throat burned and words came with great difficulty. “Alright,” He spat his words out at Marius, “I’ll go.”