Chapter 116: Permanent Mistake

Chapter 15 - Permanent Mistake

Shadows of Katur thickened as the sun slowly disappeared behind a burning horizon. Vi'Din checked his straps and belt, making sure his twin black iron swords were bound to his back and the two vials of poisons were stoppered shut. Vi'An held up the corresponding antidotes for each toxin and Vi'Din set them in their appropriate place.

“Pa, who is today's target?” Vi'An asked, chewing on his lower lip with hands behind his back.

Vi'Din examined his son's demeanor. Limited though his education was, the boy was as skilled as any. He was quick to pick up combat skills and sharper yet was his memory. He'd accurately memorized the base political landscape of the Illeyan Alliance as well as her neighbors, Xenaria and Tarmia.

But for all his wit and potential as a Shieda assassin, Vi'An was afraid. Even after many years, the assassination of a child his age still plagued him. No. It had left an unhealable scar in his mind. Vi'Din didn't want to teach his son how to kill. Not every Shadow Walker needed to be an assassin. Amongst the Eldarai of old, some were great scholars who'd gained renown through passing knowledge rather than through violent acts. But assassination had become a way of life for Vi'Din. A way to live honestly and without thievery. Well, it was honest so long as the targets of his blade were of a lower moral standing than him.

Vi'Din knew his business a dangerous one. Shadow Walkers were slippery. But a stray arrow or sword swing was all it would take to kill a man. “Today's target is the guard of a storehouse,” he said, checking the stoppers on the antidote vials. Vi'Din wanted to impart as much knowledge as he could to Vi'An so that should an accident occur, the boy would be adequately equipped. And also instill morality so that Lacerta didn't take advantage of him ever again. If only my Vay'Ar were still alive. A mother would do much better at teaching morality. Instead, Vi'An was stuck learning from a father who killed for a living.

“What has the guard done?”

Vi'Din checked the strings holding his vials at his belt. 'Viper', was the name he'd earned a long time ago due to his use of poisons during assassinations. This was before Lacerta had found him. In those days, he killed without the aid of a patron. He killed those he deemed unjust, and stole from them to feed himself and Vay'Ar.

“The guard has been accepting bribes and keeping silent about the import of shase leaves," Vi'Din said. "Some ship captain from Eurale has been bringing them in. The port some dozen and a half leagues north of Katur is already suffering from addicts.”

Viper. Names carried weight. Brought reputation. And reputation had its uses. But the very fact that he'd earned a name meant that he'd failed as an assassin. Assassins were silent killers not needing acknowledgement. Receiving acknowledgement meant that people knew he existed . Knowledge of existence was a fatal mistake for an assassin. It made future tasks more difficult.

“Shase? As in the narcotic?” Vi'An asked. “It affects the mind and not the body, right? Unlike tobacco. That harms the body more.”

Vi'Din grunted in agreement. Shase was a drug native to the desert. It served no medical purpose and worked to imprison a person's mind rather than destroying their bodies. It had long lasting customers who, at the end of their addiction, ended up without possession and starved to death because they were likely to sell everything to feed their addiction. Kingdoms were typically good at cracking down on the narcotic.

“Let's go,” Vi'Din said, sinking into the Umbra. Vi'An followed after him. They moved through the long alleyway littered with vagabonds in rags at every few dozen steps. Once on to the main street. Vi'Din went from shadow to shadow to continue moving, making sure his son was following well. The sandy streets were emptying fast as people returned to their homes. Sandal prints pressed into the sparkling gold lasted for a few minutes, the sun at last dipping beyond sight and enshrouding the entire city in shadow, making moving about significantly easier for Vi'Din and his son.

The lingering smell of sweat and perfume mixed with the aroma of street food as vendors slowly closed up shop, taking down palm wood posts and folding overhang tarps. What hadn't sold for the day was either being consumed by the shopkeepers themselves, or being sold at a tenth of their original price to stragglers in rags. Vi'Din saw no familiar faces amongst them. None of them were the same people from the alleyway before Lacerta's home. Vi'Din suspected none of them were vagabonds to begin with. More likely they were members of the underworld that every city inevitably had.

“Pa, can't we buy something? Anything? It goes for so cheap at this time of day. We could wrap ourselves in cloaks and—”

“No,” Vi'Din cut in. “Too risky. Also, if I do ever buy you anything, it won't be leftovers. I'll get you the best food possible. Don't ask your father to buy you leftovers, son.”

Vi'An didn't say anything further. His footsteps, silent as they tended to be in the Umbra, grew a bit stiff and louder than normal. Vi'Din turned to see pouting lips, the mouth being the only way Shieda were capable of expressing emotions.

Vi'Din sighed. “Tomorrow,” he said. It'd been a while since his son had asked for anything. “Tomorrow, I'll ask Lacerta to buy you something you like. But don't get hung up on him. I still don't like Lacerta. Nor completely trust him. He feigns greed for wealth, but there is something else about him I can't tell. A hidden motive…”

Vi'An's footsteps grew even louder. He ran harder, now running alongside Vi'Din rather than trailing after him, dark lips curled into a smile.

This was better, Vi'Din thought. Children shouldn't be sad. They should be smiling. He wished to give his son a better a childhood. But alas, Shieda couldn't interact with normal humans. Vi'Din had been taking his son out more often during the day to observe the behaviour of people and instill some degree of social skills should the need ever arise, though he doubted the need ever would arise. Shadow Walkers were one of two races labelled darkspawn by most people. Vampires were the second. Humans had a terrible habit of being hostile towards those they didn't understand, identify with, or were weaker than.

Humans were also a terribly inconsistent race. Even though historical records proved that Vampires and Shadow Walkers had once fought alongside men against the Tortured Throne, time changed feelings. It brought about false narratives and new histories. Human scholars then set to debate which histories were correct and which were disingenuous information spread by darkspawn sympathizers.

Vi'Din turned down to a different street, avoiding going near the domed royal palace. Katur's granaries were at the city's northwestern edge. Most desert farmers —of which most were located a fair distance north of the sand dunes— farmed either dates or durum. Though, desert peoples, as far as Vi'Din had observed with himself included, were overwhelmingly in favor of consuming rice, making that the Alliance kingdoms' main import.

The night thickened as Vi'Din closed in on the expected location. Yellow sand either became dark grey, or near black entirely depending on the depth of shadows touching their surface. Vi'Din had toured the area early in the morning with Lacerta, hiding in the man's shadow to get a look at his target's face. A man by the name of Yari; the head guardsman of the granaries.

Vi'Din paused before the place. It was sealed off by a wall of sand of about four meters in height. The walls weren't thick enough for patrols, though small towers at both ends held two guards each with another pair guarding the arched gateway leading inside.

Vi'Din passed through the gateway, Vi'An following. The granary surface area was about as large as Katur's royal palace grounds. Three separate buildings of stone with domed rooftops stood within, a pair of guards in white robes patrolling the grounds. In one hand they held a black iron tipped spear, and in the other they held a rectangular shield with an eight point star painted upon them in white. The guardsman robes had similar eight point star crests at the heart, crystals embedded within reflecting the faintest of lights. The uniform and crest marked them as Katur's royal guards. It only made sense to have the best trained men guard the food stores of a city.

“Pa? Which is it? Who is the one taking bribes,” Vi'An whispered, though quite needless. The hoarse voices of Shieda made it as if they were whispering always.

Vi'Din scratched his head, observing the material world from within the Umbra. There were a pair of guardsman at the open entrance of each storehouse. But none of them matched the face of Yari. Perhaps the man was inside one of the buildings?

Vi'An scratched his head also. “You said one was taking bribes and bringing shase in. Wouldn't the others know about it? Why do you only have one target pa?”

Vi'Din's lips curled. “An astute observation, son. My target, Yari, is the man in charge of overseeing the granary. I suspect he gives a cut of his bribes to his closest aides. It is in our power to right wrongs, but killing is not an end all be all answer, Vi'An. If possible, it is better to avoid killing altogether. Those that are aware of Yari's deeds will also be smart enough to deduce the cause of his murder. Or I am hoping they will be smart enough to do so. Thus, they are likely to once again step on a path of morality. Should they fail to do that, killing once again is an option put to the table. Understand?”

Vi'An nodded.

“Good. Just remember, do not aim to snuff out a life. Aim to guide one and better the lives of others as required by the Will of Fire. The will of the Creator himself. Now, wait here. I'm going to check each individual granary. If I find the man, I will let you know.”

The boy nodded again. Vi'Din walked off, feeling a sickness in his stomach. I will let you know . It wasn't right. His son didn't need to watch him kill. At the same time, he did need to see it. Vi'An needed to get over his pain. He needed to place a bandage over that scar that still glowed as if it were a fresh wound with red blood staining the flesh around it. He didn't have to kill. But he needed the ability to kill. The only way Vi'Din knew how to have his son gain experience without staining his hands was to witness an assassination take place. Witness it repeatedly and get used to it. The more times he saw it, the easier it would be to get used to it. And the easier it would be to forget the pain of the past.

What am I thinking? Vi'Din slipped through the gateway of a storehouse. He nearly threw up, but forced the sickness down and quickly moved along. Although the guards couldn't see within the Umbra, loud noises would be heard, setting off suspicion and perhaps drawing questions towards the possibility of a Shadow Walker's existence. Every kill is like the first time. Every kill, equally disgusting and nauseating as the last… Vi'Din's face hurt where his eyes would be. Was it the same for his son? Was witnessing his father kill a new and disgusting experience every time? But then, how else was Vi'Din to teach him? To equip him with the necessary tools for survival?

He shook his head. Those thoughts would come after the task was complete. Right now, the priority was righting a wrong. To kill a man trying to smuggle narcotics into a city. Vi'Din searched through the granary. Sacks of either rice or durum flour were stacked almost to the ceiling. The ground was full of powder. Sacks of flour then . Small orange luminite was embedded into the walls. No torches. They were an obvious hazard in a powdery place.

No one else was within the granary. Vi'Din left and moved on to the next one. Vi'An still stood in the exact position, looking around here and there as if looking for the target like he knew the man's face.

Vi'Din entered the second granary. This one had bits of long-grained and fragrant rice scattered across the floor and was dimly illuminated by an orange glow at the walls as well. At the far end, Vi'Din found who he was looking for. Yari, a fairly short but broad shouldered man with a mane of black around his head. He wore a mail of chain above his white robes. His spear and shield rested against the wall. Beside him, two small barrels were stacked on top of each other. Of their contents was an easy guess.

Vi'Din turned to call his son but paused. Yari opened the top of a barrel and removed a few dried leaves. He crushed them in into powder and inhaled with a deep breath. And then he took a dark bottle from his feet and took a large swig. Vi'Din shook his head. Yari was already addicted. There was no reason for Vi'An to see this. No reason for him to see me kill…

Vi'Din clenched his teeth. He drew a sword with his left hand and then came out of the cool Umbra right before Yari. The night chill of a desert embraced Vi'Din. Yari stared with a mouth wide agape. He rubbed his eyes furiously as if not believing what he was seeing. Vi'Din watched as the expression changed to shock. Watched as the foggy eyes noticed the sword. Watched as the expression then changed to terror. Vi'Din then gripped Yari's neck with his powerful fingers and pressed him against the wall. The guardsman tried screaming. Vi'Din tightened his grip, making sure no sound would come out.

Yari struggled, legs thrashing and fists beating upon Vi'Din's well-muscled arm. “Mer-cy,” the guardsman managed to croak.

Vi'Din hissed, sword tip pointed at his target's torso. “No. You cannot be given an opportunity to right your wrong. You will be the example, officer. Your subordinates will be given the opportunity. You chose this path. Lament your mistakes in the afterlife.” Vi'Din plunged his thin black blade into Yari, still holding the man by the throat. “Flames guide his soul.” Yari's eyes rolled back, foggy tears rolling down the sides. His legs went limp and arms collapsed to the side.

Vi'Din let go, letting the body slide down to the ground, leaving blood smeared on the stone walls as if someone had painted a brushstroke of red. The body touched the spear leaning against the wall and it clattered to the ground. The storehouse was too large for the sound to warrant caution. Vi'Din turned his attention to the barrels of shase. Using Yari's iron spear tip, he struck the stone walls at an angle to cause sparks. Vi'Din held his breath as the contents of both barrels caught fire. The smell was slightly acidic and perfume like at the same time. It would be dangerous to be near it.

Task completed, Vi'Din returned to the Umbra. He inhaled sharply as a portion of his body heat was immediately sucked out of him, making him shiver. He'd made sure the barrels were away from the grains. An entire storehouse burning down would make prices rise and the people in Katur would suffer. Regardless, seeing dancing lights within the storehouse piqued the interest of other guards. They yelled and marched inside. Vi'Din ran beneath their feet and out to the grounds where his son still waited.

“Pa! Pa!” the boy cried, running up. “What happened? Did you find him?”

Vi'Din nodded. “He is dead. I have killed him.”

“But you didn't call—”

“Hush. There were reasons. He was consuming shase. I needed to burn the stores and being near the smoke would have been dangerous.” Vi'Din couldn't say the actual reason. Vi'An tended to put up a strong front when witnessing death. But it was terribly easy to see past the act. “Next time. For the next mission, I'll make sure to bring you along.” Make sure to find another excuse.

“Oh. How much shase was there?”

“Two small barrels. Enough to ruin an entire neighborhood within nights. Let's hope the other guards learn from this mistake. This hopefully blows back on that Euralite merchant trying to pedal these narcotics.” If Katur's guards didn't bring him in when next he came, Lacerta's group was likely to put a kill order on his head. To Vi'Din surprise, Lacerta had actually kept his end of the bargain, only asking assassinations of those who'd stepped off the path of morality for the past few years.

Vi'An, normally inquisitive during excursions, remained silent during the return trip, giving Vi'Din time to think. The boy was too bright on occasion. There was a chance he knew the real reason as to why he hadn't been invited to witness the killing. Vi'Din clenched his teeth. Having his son entertain such thoughts might work to backfire the original intent behind keeping him away from assassinations. Vi'An had already killed before and had hated it. Vi'Din was caught in a bind. He could think of no easy way of teaching his son without harming the fragility of a young mind.

“Pa,” Vi'An began softly as they neared the alleyway to their home. “This guard. Yari. Was he… addicted to shase by chance?”

Vi'Din paused, turning to face his son. “What makes you ask that?”

“He wasn't outside and on duty. If he was alone —assuming he was since you managed to kill him and return so quickly— then given what I've observed of humans, he was doing something in secret that he didn't want others to see.”

Vi'Din shook his head, smiling. Too bright. Definitely Eldari material . He wasn't not being inquisitive. He was making sense of his deductions and formulating a hypotheses.

Vi'An continued, holding up two fingers. “I had two conclusions. He was either absorbed in greed, counting his bribery funds, or he was—” he paused. “Doing shase? Using shase? Consuming? What's the proper word pa?”

“Using works just fine. Yes, he was using it. Was addicted, given the fog in his eyes too.”

Vi'An crossed his arms. “Do you think that maybe we should have searched him or his home for extra wealth that he should not have had?”

Vi'Din tilted his head. “What purpose would that—” he stopped himself, realizing what his son was trying to say. What he himself had failed to see. Shase affected the mind. What if the guard hadn't been taking bribes, but was somehow subtly coerced into addiction, then having no choice but to follow orders to appease said addiction? What if he had a family of his own? Did you consider that, Vi'Din?

Vi'Din swallowed. It wasn't as if he hadn't investigated his targets before. But lately, he'd been trusting Lacerta to do that much. He'd veered away from moral killings and was instead just being used as a weapon. Vi'Din clenched his fists. He was the one who had made a mistake. And Vi'An caught it. Was the boy bright enough to see past his own trauma, or would his father's mistake further harm that fragile mind? Vi'Din couldn't know. What was he doing as a father? As a teacher?

“Pa, it's alright. Mistakes happen. We just need to learn from them, right?”

Vi'Din nodded. His face again hurt where his eyes would be. Mistakes happen . Was that all the boy thought of his killing at Izzet? Mistakes during an assassination meant taking a life unjustly. It was a permanent error that couldn't be fixed. Vi'Din let out a long and melancholic exhale, head tilted up and staring at the stars above. Better to leave it at that. Better Vi'An saw it as just a mistake and learned as much as possible from his failure of a father. “Yes. A mistake. I'm sorry you have to see me making errors, son. I will do better. So that you do not walk my steps.”

Vi'An nodded, now smiling.

Vi'Din smiled back, leading the boy down the alleyway passage. The night wasn't particularly late. The vagabonds were still awake, usually sitting cross-legged with backs leaning against the walls. Vi'Din once again found his gaze flitting to the red markings on the walls. Markings that looked eerily like Chronary. It sent chills down his spine. Four years and nothing had happened. Was it really just a symbol and nothing more?

He glanced at each and every vagabond, keeping up habits of wariness despite being hidden within the Umbra. Vi'Din stopped moving. Strange . Every time he glanced at a person, their eyes snapped away to a different direction. Vi'Din began walking again, stealing glances from the corners of his eyes. He felt gazes on his back as he moved. It was a strange feeling he couldn't put to words. A feeling that only arose due to a lifetime of caution.

Could these people Lacerta had posted see within the Umbra? See him and his son? But that was impossible.

And Chronary can make the impossible possible . The right runes, the right words formed into the right sentences, and just about any desired result could be achieved.

How had he not noticed this before? Vi'Din ground his teeth. These people were plotting something. Perhaps had been plotting something for the past several years. And that plot involved Shadow Walkers.