“And do you, Nadier, admit guilty to the crime of treason, and be sentenced to death?”

The voice of the Ha'Lof, the high elf of the dark council, echoed through the circular chamber. Standing in the middle of the arena of judgemental stares, wrist and feet shackled, naked with marks of lashes across his body, Nadier looked up to the council with a steadied glare.

Defiantly, Nadier replied, “What happens if I admit my guilt?”

Haeswahl Nunderberg, commander of the dark elf army, stood from her bench. An elf as muscular as a human, Haeswahl wore the black coat of Grandmaster Commander over the black bodysuit of her trait. Her hair was a disturbing short grey and her eyes had cat-like irises with the red of dark elves. She emitted a fearful presence that silenced the rest of the room into bated breath.

Haeswahl commented, “Once your guilt is admitted, your death will be carried out, post-haste.”

“And should I refute?”

“A much, slower, execution,” Haeswahl replied with a grin.

The large double doors of the council chamber swung opened and Akaras Spaedruiner walked in with a confident, high-held gait. His coat fluttering behind him bore the arms of the House of Speedrunner, two daggers crossed over a buckler.

“Aegai Spaedruiner,” the Ha'Lof greeted. “I am to assume there is a good reason for this intrusion?”

Akaras glanced over to his brother and gave a reassuring nod before stepping forward into the centre of the stage. “Yes, my Hae Lord. I would like to plead on the behalf of my brother?”

“Objection!” Haeswahl slammed her clenched fists against the table, the sound echoing throughout the chamber like a clap of thunder.

Most of the council members slunk back in their seats but the Ha'Lof stood to his feet and raised an opened hand to halt Haeswahl. Turning to Akaras, he asked, “And what is the condition of your argument?”

“The name of the House of Speedrunner, in return for the life and banishment of Nadier,” Akaras's voice rang clear through the chamber.

The Ha'Lof asked, “And should we refute?”

“Should such a path occur, the House will declare war on the chamber.”

Haeswahl shouted, “Blaspheme!”

The Ha'Lof silenced her with another raise of his hand. “Very well. The council will now adjourn to convene and discuss the terms and desolation of the House.”

***

“Wanderer. Wanderer!”

Nadier's eyes flickered open to the call of his epitaph. The sound of the streets of the lower city of Everwind slowly waved into his ears and the light of the warm noon Twins wrapped his body in a blanket of comfort, attempting to lure him back to sleep. He took in a deep, hard breath. The stench of the gutter and blood from the butcher's knocked through his sinus and into his brain, immediately setting him straight on the bench, fully awaken by the smell of blood.

The woman before him, dressed in a ragged dress and dirt splattered apron, held out the paper-wrapped bundle to him. “Sorry for the wait.” Her short onyx hair shone and glimmered in the light. “Here's your order of brown jaeger leaves.”

He stood to his feet and took the small package from her, keeping it inside his coat. “Thanks, Joan. I know it's hard to find jaeger, and there's not really much use for them in a shop like yours,” he noted the rustic floristry establishment they stood outside of. “I apologize for the trouble.”

“Nonsense, Wanderer. You're one of my best customers. And the medicine you bring have been very helpful for the orphanage.” The young woman who was just the height of his chest patted him on the head as if he was a child. “Milton's always hoping you'd one day sit down for dinner with us. You've helped us so much. And you have to teach me more of your alchemical knowledge.”

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“Perhaps next time, Joan. It's a busy season for me.” He took three vials of antiseptic from his waist pouch and handed them over as payment. He left the florist with a wave goodbye.

The lower city streets were narrow and filled with potholes, and those out on the streets were either rugged mercenaries and travellers who were armed and ready for a riot, or lower class citizens in ragged clothes going about their day with an air of solemnity forever hanging around them. The drains at the sides were littered and clogged, sending a constant odour of rotting eggs into the air. Doors of the five floor apartments were closed, though Nadier knew what laid beyond them. Rooms barely the size of the back of a trade caravan housing families and groups of five or more with corridors strewn of the homeless. The few shops that were opened were filled with hagglers. The poverty stricken district, with the lack of monetary flow, often resulted to trading for food and daily necessities.

He caught a glimpse of the flutter of a cloak from the corner of his eyes and he sighed. A group of city guards were headed his way from down the street and he turned into a small dark alley to avoid.

The dark elf continued down the narrow path until he was sure they were both hidden by the shadows before saying, “You can come out now.”

From behind her 'hiding spot' of a small pile of rubbish, the young girl stood up into view with a wide grin on her face. “How did you know I was here?”

“Tina, if you want to follow someone you know, wear a mask.” Nadier pulled up his scarf to demonstrate.

Tinarya Twainrae wore an old, stained, hooded brown coat that was too small for an adult and too large for a child like her. Reaching down to her shin, the coat practically covered the whole of her body like a raincoat. The girl, just a head shorter than his chest, looked akin to a dress that had left its coat rack behind and decided to grow a pair of legs to go out for a walk on its own.

She ran up to Nadier in hops and skips. Taking off her hood, she revealed her sharp elven ears, medium-cut dirt hair, and deep leaf-green eyes. Her smile pulled her otherwise sharp elven face into a bubble and the scar that rested across her nose was barely visible compared to the red stroke that it was the last time Nadier had saw her.

He knelt down to face her, dusting off her shoulders gently. He then reprimanded, “What are you doing here? If the guards catches you, they'll throw you back into the Antipods.”

“Pfft!” Tina waved the idea away. “I'm a Gutter Rat! I'm not afraid of 'em guards!”

The Gutter Rats were a self-proclaimed rebel group that was really just a bunch of kids that liked to congregate and play in the tunnels under the city. Most of them were homeless, a small sum from poverty stricken families, and a fraction were from the orphanage.

He ruffled her hair and sighed. “Right, right. Now go back to the sewage tunnels, little Gutter Rat, or I'll tell Mister Jones you sneaked out of the orphanage again.”

Tina's eyes widened in worry. “Please don't! We're having noodles for dinner today. I don't want to miss that!”

“Well, we'll have to get going, won't we?” He stood up and turned to face the way out to the streets, only to stop in his tracks.

Silhouetted by light, a figure stood at the entrance of the alley. The slender woman wearing her tight clothing ensemble of a red leather skirt, black corset, buttoned brown leather jacket, and knee length heeled boots, greeted them. Upon noticing the woman, Tina immediately turned away to hide behind Nadier, who covered her with an outstretched arm while his left hand reached for his dagger.

Nora Phemtelle greeted, “Wanderer. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Lady Nora,” he monotonously greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Tina gripped tightly to the hem of his coat. He could feel her burning a stare at the woman. She whispered to him, “I don't like her.”

Nora looked to Tina, who shook back in shock at being overheard from that distance. “I'm sorry, little girl. Maybe you'll like me more if you're dead?” Nora smiled, not a trace of menace on her face.

The girl stood her ground though Nadier could feel her shaking in fear from just the touch of his coat. He was quite proud of how brave she was. In the end though, she whimpered for protection. “Nads...”

“Don't worry,” he said to Tina, placing a reassuring hand on her head without turning away from Nora. To the Lady, he asked, “Again, why are you here?”

Nora turned her attention back to Nadier. “The Lord Light wants to see you.”

He had been a hired hand of Everwind for nearly a hundred years. During that whole time, he had not met either the previous or the present Lord Light once. The fact that he was being called now while on his way to investigate the portal for The Watcher was more than a little suspect. But he had a more pressing question to ask.

“What about the girl?” he noted about Tina.

Nora replied, “She can go. No point wasting energy on a child.”

He nodded in understanding. Squatting down and turning back to Tina, he instructed, “Go back home, alright? I'll come visit you later.”

She had held back her tears and her eyes glistened with them and was red from nearly crying. But still, she managed to ask, “What about you?”

He gave a small smile. His face felt slightly stiff. It was not often he smiled. “I'll be fine. And remember to open room forty-two for me.”

The girl's lips pursed and she nodded. He helped her pull her hood back up and sent her scampering down the alley. He watched as she disappeared into the shadows before standing and turning back to the Lady who had, within the time he was talking to Tina, closed the gap between them without him noticing. A feat that was impressive for a human to do to an dark elf on edge.

He looked down to her high heel boots. On appearance, the footwear looked uninspiring and normal. However, he knew the truth. The heels were made of titanium that were painted black. And the conical tips, which Nora had attributed to long-term wear and tear, were actually by design. It hooked onto any limps that she could grab with her feet, allowing her to break and slam the bones at her leisure with no easy escape. It was a pair of weapon that was terrifyingly simple and sent shivers down his spine whenever he saw them. After all, no one would ever confiscate footwear. Her expert usage of the boots, stealth skills, and early years spent as a spy made her one of the most feared assassin in all of Eltar, even by dark elf standards.

She smiled at Nadier with a beautifully sculpted face. “Shall we leave?”

Hiding his fears, he answered, “Lead the way.”

They stepped out onto the streets where a carriage awaited. He stepped forward to open the door for her, never letting it be said that he was anything but polite. He turned for one last look down the dark alley where Tina had ran off and another long look to The Tower in the distance of the central district. He closed the door behind him.