Sneak

The Grey Crown, The Grasping Isle

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/554030201789743105/1028654515798409237/Grasping_Isle_Final_V1.0.png]Map made by Mark Evegaars, writer of this story

Master Rove looked over his shoulder towards his employer and then down towards the orb. With one smooth movement, he swiped Stormgrinder down, the crystal in its hilt shining crimson in the night, like a blood-covered beetle. The blade stopped just shy of the orb, the man glancing at Ayuen.

“If I destroy this, will she know?”

The Pyrn poet hummed softly, keeping her weapon aimed at Trïeste.

“Most likely. These things are rare and extremely sturdy. Simply put, only something with enough magical firepower would be able to damage it. Something like Stormgrinder or Floryshia.”

The Herhor let out a soft ‘tsk’, eyes flashing.

“Which means the person on the other side would know Trïeste has encountered something powerful and their plan went south.”

Stormgrinder now rested against the orb.

“So, Trïeste. This also means that your family might live as long as this orb stays whole.

“If you destroy that orb, I’ll take you with me, you sword-loving asshole.” The alchemist said in a whisper, glaring up at the Herhor. Master Rove slowly aimed his sword at her in response, murder and resolve in his eyes. His patience was running low.

Sneak saw Trïeste’s body flex, muscles getting ready for a last-ditch effort that would certainly end in death.

Whipping around towards Trïeste, Sneak dove on top of her before she could start moving, pinning her to the ground. Master Rove’s reflexes almost kicked in, the Herhor barely able to get Stormgrinder out of the way with a flick of his wrist. The blade effortlessly cut through a nearby branch, almost as a challenge.

“Sneak, the fuck?! Is that bloody madness contagious or something?” The man exclaimed, trying to aim his blade without hitting Sneak. Okay, Master Rove wasn’t planning on cutting him. Great. Good. Excellent.

“Please… excuse…Sneak…” He managed to say while the woman under him tried her hardest to get out from under him, screeching like a dying peacock all the while. “Trïeste… Listen to Sneak… Think... Your mama might still be livin’..”

With the adrenaline rushing through him, his mind was the clearest it had been in a long time. Sneak knew that his logic was sound for once. Sneak just had to convince her.

“Fuck off! FUCK... OFF! I’ll kill you, you insane imbecile!”

Mistress Ayuen quickly came into view beside him, silencing the half-Vysari, half-Yrus woman lying underneath him by gagging her with a piece of cloth. With a disapproving look, Master Rove also helped, keeping her legs down as Sneak clambered off her while still holding her arms down. Legria and her voluptuous bosom be praised for a rush of clarity.

“Trïeste. Sneak knows it is hard. Like trying to throw a soggy mountain. But hear Sneak out.”

Trïeste looked at him furiously, her eyes wide open and crazed. Needed more convincing, that much was sure.

“Why would that ugly Siandra woman be killin’ your mama?” He continued, speaking loudly enough to be hearable over Trïeste's dampened cries of protest. “Trïeste is a skilled fighter, herb-mixer woman and spy woman, yes? If Siandra kills Trïeste’s mama, Trïeste gets angry at Siandra, no?”

The mumbles stopped, and although the stares weren’t any less furious, Sneak saw her mind starting to calm down as she stared at the mental carrot on a stick.

“If Siandra is a smart biscuit, then Trïeste’s mama will be livin’. Otherwise, Siandra is vulnerable to Trïeste’s wrath. And if she doesn’t know, we can use the orb, deceive her as you deceived us.”

Next to him, Master Rove whistled softly. Ayuen nodded approvingly too.

“So Sneak can still save mama. Sneak can. So, please calm down and let Sneak help. Sneak wants to help Trïeste. Okay?”

At this point, tears were streaming down Trïeste’s face like waterfalls. Great sobs shook the woman’s body. It was clear she was broken by the chaotic torrent of emotions she’d experienced in the last hour. Her eyes were red, and her muscles started relaxing as she finally collapsed in a heap.

Sneak looked towards Master Rove and mistress Ayuen. He got a raised eyebrow from the former and a warm smile from the latter. They didn’t talk, the two of them just waiting for his next move. The choice of how to proceed was his. And it only took him a mere one and a half seconds to decide.

“M’ster Rove and mistress Ayuen are goin’ to let go now. Shake head if Trïeste not gonna kill.”

Slowly but surely, Trïeste shook her head and carefully, Sneak released his grip, nodding to his companions to do the same. Mistress Ayuen took the gag away as well. Trïeste’s sniffling and crying were on full display now. Sobs softly echoed through the nightly air as the woman just lay there on the ground. This time, it was clear she had no intention of doing anything, or rather couldn’t. That was the right thing for her to do. Sneak didn’t want her to get turned into red-tinted pancakes and cut ribbons. Eyes red with tears, Trïeste turned her head towards him, rubbing the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic.

“Can you? Will you? Will you help me?”

Sneak nodded resolutely.

“Yes. Sneak will do Sneak’s best! Trïeste is also a victim of Siandra, like a worm in the claws of a cat. Sneak will help Trïeste best Sneak can, as Sneak does with the M’ster and mistress.”

The smallest of smiles made its way onto Trïeste’s face as she reached a hand towards him. Smiling his signature mad grin, Sneak accepted.

Then suddenly, Trïeste pulled herself towards him hard. Not expecting such a move, Sneak didn’t resist. In that split second, doubt crept into his heart as he pinched his eyes closed. Had they been had? Was Sneak going to get killed now?

Then Trïeste collapsed in his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. The sensation was surprisingly peaceful and most importantly, devoid of death. Awkwardly, Sneak patted her back.

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“There, there. We are not goin’ to turn you into pancakes.”

Master Rove loomed over them with sword drawn, a perplexed look on his face. Sneak shrugged at him. It wasn’t like he had seen this coming.

Trïeste looked up at him, rubbing her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Rove. I’ve decided to listen to you for the time being. I and my mother are at your mercy. If I fuck up again... feel free to end me. No hard feelings.”

Trïeste shifted in Sneak’s arms, sitting with her back against the tree again as she left his embrace.

Her countryside accent was gone, even now she talked calmly. Her current inflexion was more similar to Ayuen’s, although without the fancy words that the Pyrn woman often used.

“Sneak is right. It would make sense for Siandra to keep my mother alive in case I decide to come after her. And I’m not planning on denying that bitch the pleasure of meeting me. But if I am going to free her, I need help. And I know I have no right to and you will be unable to trust me after what happened, yet you’re the only one I can ask for help. I don’t know if my mother will live after this, but I’m going to get revenge for my father at the very least.”

“And what makes you think we will offer our assistance after what you’ve pulled?” Came Rove’s growl. With his blade still unsheathed, Master Rove stared Trïeste down.

“Although I do sympathize, it’ll take a lot more to convince me and Ayuen. What guarantee do we have you won’t cut our throats in our sleep?” Mistress Ayuen grimaced with reluctant approval to the Herhor’s statement.

Trïeste shot the man a sneaky smile.

“How about news about Prado and… well, does the name ‘Mira’ ring a bell?” She looked towards Ayuen. “And maybe your father and mother as well, Ayuen? I’ll trade my information, and in addition, I’ll agree to sleep bound at night. How does that sound?”

The effect on both of Sneak’s companions was immediate. Both stared at Trïeste for a good six and a half seconds before they both sat down in near-perfect unison.

“Acceptable so far. We’re listening. Make it worth our time.” Came the brusk answer.

“Let’s start with you then, my dear bastard herhor.” Trïeste shifted to sit a bit more upright.

“Prado had a close line of communication with Siandra. Through me, mostly. I know a couple of things about him because of that. He’s got a total force of thirteen people with him, together with a load of supplies and horses. Came here through a teleportation ritual. Which is something you’re quite familiar with, aren’t you Ayuen?”

The half-Vysari chuckled softly.

“But anyway,” Trïeste continued. ”He’s not going to get any more info from me. Now that he doesn’t have a source of intel anymore, he won’t be able to track our movements as efficiently. Although he does know the general direction we’re headed in at this moment. That is what I reported on this night, after all. Prado is but one of Siandra’s allies, as you guys noticed in Tinkersong.”

“How long were you deceiving us?” Mistress Ayuen asked.

“From the very start. Those two thugs you ‘saved’ me from in Herhor’s End? Hired muscle, drunk on money. My little adventure at Tinkerspring? Reporting to Siandra.”

Words began to pour out of the half-Vysari woman’s throat as if a rushing waterfall had sprouted from within her. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Surely you must’ve noticed that you were sniffed out way too easily. Like in Tingerspring. Those two Yrus that ganged up on Sneak? Yeah, also informed by me.”

She frowned somewhat angrily, then looked at Sneak apologetically.

“Although I didn’t expect them to go and try to rough Sneak up. I thought... well... that they could maybe only take Ayuen. I don’t want to hurt you lot, but I... I have to... my mother...”

Master Rove gestured for her to get on with it. “Yeah, alright. That’s quite enough. You were a spy. We know now. So give us some information that we can use. What about Mira and Ayuen’s parents? Spill those beans already.”

Trïeste nodded silently, looking rather pale.

“For Mira, I know only a few things. They told me that she’s your half-sister, right? Prado mentioned her a couple of times. By the sound of it, she’s not conforming to her mother’s wishes. ‘A little rebel’, as Prado put it. He told one of his men that she’d been sent to the east of Derinia, near the border with Enitul. Where the Dihou River first flows in sight of the Sleeping Forest. If you have a map of Enitul, I can point it out for you easily. No word about her business there though. Prado himself also seemed a tad confused.”

If Master Rove felt any strong emotions when he heard the news, Sneak was unable to see it. The man just nodded and leaned back, apparently satisfied with the answer. Staring at the Herhor, Trïeste looked confused before she continued.

“And as far as Ayuen’s parents go, they’re currently imprisoned at the Royal Palace within Marlight. Kept separate from the captured Yrus as well. Probably to snuff out any plots and problems before they begin.”

The alchemist’s face went dark and glum, reddening as she looked away. “I was to retrieve what you were looking for, kill you and then return to Marlight to finish off your parents. Only then would my mother be spared. So they’re still safely behind bars. Even though it’s Siandra’s sadism that’s responsible for that.”

“They are alright…” In stark contrast to Master Rove, Mistress Ayuen’s relief was almost physical, the Pyrn letting out a deep breath with one hand on her chest. Her wings quivered a bit before drooping toward the ground. “That’s a relief. A weight off my shoulder. Thank you, Trïeste. Or well, thank you more if you wouldn’t have tried to kill me first. No offence.”

“None taken. It's not like this wipes clean by slate as far as the things I did to the both of you go. Nor do I expect it to.”

Trïeste raised a fist and placed it on top of her heart.

“By the love for my mother and everything else I hold dear, I swear I will repay you for the stain that my betrayal put onto your trust. I will not rest until that debt is repaid in full and then some. That I owe to you. But please, help my mother at the very least, even if I have to be condemned.”

Sneak nodded, satisfied by Trïeste's words and determination. He had been paying close attention to the inflexion of her voice, counting how many times her voice quivered or shook. As far as he could hear, she was being truthful. The madman turned his head to Master Rove. “M’ster Rove. Sneak will vouch for her. Vouch that Sneak will keep Trïeste straight as a dead herrin’. Sneak vows on Sneak’s life, he will keep an eye out!”

Master Rove was watching the both of them, a deep sceptical frown on his face. His eyes slowly drifted from Trïeste to Sneak, taking in the determination in their gazes. A drop of sweat rolled from Sneak’s brow, dripping onto his leg. Was it enough? A careful man such as Master Rove was hard to convince and even harder to make forgive. Especially after being stabbed in the back before, would the Herhor give her a last chance?

Trïeste was another victim of Siandra. And even though her plot had almost cost them, she had valuable intel. Plus, the option to use the orb to cover their movements was too good to pass up. Rove knew that too. And on Trïeste side of things, Sneak knew her only chance to be reunited with her mother lay with Master Rove’s and Mistress Ayuen’s graces.

After what felt like an eternity, the frown on Master Rove’s face disappeared and he let out a long sigh, gesturing halfheartedly towards Mistress Ayuen.

“Fine. I’m fine with Trïeste tagging along for the time being, as long as Ayuen agrees with it as well. She’s in charge. I am only tagging along. One ‘but’ with that, though. We make use of her resources to cover our asses. No other surprises.”

Mistress Ayuen smiled softly at the Herhor and then leaned down to put a hand on Trïeste’s shoulder. Sneak saw the latter twitch at the touch as if she tried to evade the gesture.

“I believe that this is the best course of action. Rove and I need all the help we can get. You hold nothing but contempt for your former employer, no doubt. Just remember, we are your best chance to get your mother back.”

“I guess we can agree on that much.” The Herhor agreed, pointing a finger at Sneak. “I’m holding you personally responsible, Sneak. One fuck-up and you’re to put a permanent stop to her. Clear?”

Clearing his throat, Sneak stood up and gave Master Rove a salute.

“Yes, M’ster Rove. Sneak will not fail M’ster Rove, Sneak promises!”

Master Rove nodded and finally sheathed Stormgrinder.

“Very well. Then I think it is time we all go to bed now. Need to travel quite some distance in the morning. Off you go. And Sneak, you’re pulling double duty today. You’re keeping tabs on Trïeste.”

The Herhor turned around and walked towards his tent, yawning and stretching while he did so.

Sneak helped Trïeste up, with her giving him a thankful smile. She leaned towards him and hugged him again before she returned to her watching duties near the campfire. After a short hesitation, Sneak joined her and sat by her side. It didn’t take long for them to be absorbed in conversation, with both of them eager to know more about the other. For real this time. It felt like only a mere forty-four minutes had passed until the sun peeked its head over the horizon. Time was weird, almost as weird as him and the woman he sat next to.

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/876104022833127448/1094185549989945374/DoL_No_Name.png]

Dusk of Life Country Symbol made by Mark Evegaars, writer of this story