Wilke was the kind of person who didn't enjoy being sneaky. Subtle, yes; he would gladly speak of being a "combat specialist" without making any specific claims, he would give a wink and a nod to abilities that most people didn't expect him to have, and he felt a quiet thrill whenever anyone, ally or enemy, underestimated him.

Mostly, he enjoyed showing off, and didn't mind showing off in a way that nobody understood what they were seeing. Shadow arts, though, were different. When Wilke showed a mastery of combat arts or divination magic, viewers would imagine how he would use those in a straight fight, or even a very lopsided melee. Shadow arts... had their place in a straight duel, but most people considered them crooked, the kind of arts used by assassins rather than than warriors.

It didn't help that he had learned those arts from a group of assassins, of course.

And naturally, it didn't help that he was using the arts to sneak through someone's private home--Lord Egrethore was a villain, of course, but this was still a private home--and might just as easily have snuck up behind the Lord and put a knife in his back, if that was what he wanted to do. The Order wouldn't have permitted it, of course, but far more importantly, Wilke didn't want that kind of reputation.

Wilke was not a noble by birth. He had been awarded the surname D'Matria. The particulars of who he had been awarded it by were less important than that he had earned it, and that others recognized it. Wilke had suffered indignities and been forced to stretch out his lifetime more than once just to achieve something almost nobody did: completing one of the Great Arts and becoming a third order martial artist.

And here he was sneaking.

He had to settle for knowing that he was doing a damn fine job of it. Shadow-style martial arts established this kind of stealth in principle, but it took a combination of that art and active use of Darkness Elementalism to erase his presence from the minds of people that ought to know he was still there. It was a rare combination, but not nearly rare enough, as his instructors had insisted on teaching him both at the same time. The knowledge that out there were more assassins with the same tools gave even Wilke an unhappy shiver from time to time.

The small hidden hallway had been opened in the time that Wilke had left, and they hadn't yet closed it, probably because Rin was still downstairs. He had no doubt that the guard posted here had explicit instructions to close it if anyone suspicious appeared.

And it was only a small hallway, with a small room behind it. It was a strange room, because although Wilke could smell a woman's scent here, the bed looked like it had never been slept in, and the candle had never been lit. And under the table, as Chai had suggested, was a small scrap of paper, perhaps half the size of his palm. The edge was curled just a bit, as though a larger paper had been folded over back and forth until it was easier to tear, but patiently; whoever had done it had not made any folds by mistake, as there were no other creases on it at all.

That paper had two irregularities, to which Wilke immediately added a third. First, a glyph was drawn on it in blood, one similar in style to what Rin had shown him before, and second, it was no longer just paper. Some combination of the blood and essence had steeped the paper full of elemental energy, and now it was as rigid as a thin plate of metal. But, Wilke surmised as he studied it, there wasn't enough energy in it. It didn't feel stable.

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Another mage might not have noticed. Chai, of course, would have. Wilke had taken some pains to learn Thunder Magic, however, and the essence in this spell card depended was heavily biased towards Yellow. That made sense, if it was a spellbreaker card: Thunder magic specialized in overcoming heavy resistance. Other magics could break spells, it was true, but if you wanted to put together a spell that could break any other spell, you wanted to use yellow essence.

As one of the greater elements, though, Yellow Essence wasn't common. You couldn't just absorb it out of the air. That's why, when you were first taught the magic, you were taught to create it from an even mixture of other elements. If a mage had that technique but no natural supply of Thunder magic, it would take them a long time to piece together the energy required.

This showed signs that the yellow essence wasn't enough. There were other reserves, points in the glyph that had been fed energy--mostly water and fire essence, he thought, with the water coming from the blood--and the essences were pushing against the yellow essence. And that yellow essence, although it should be very powerful, wasn't pushing back, leading to a slight mix of energy that probably shouldn't be there.

Wilke's musings were cut short when a sound from outside alerted the guard, and the door was slid shut on the hallway silently, cutting off Wilke's only source of light. He swallowed and quickly pocketed the spellcard, hoping that the weird effect of the stone wouldn't interfere with his Darkness Elementalism as it was used on the guards. It shouldn't--that wasn't how the domain rules worked--but he still worried. Anything that blocked his void sense was dangerous to toy with.

Rather than light the candle or make any other source of light, Wilke sent his thoughts out in search of another exit. This house, he knew, was full of secrets, and he'd already seen many hidden hallways in the walls. He found it in the short hallway: a knee-high panel that slid back under light pressure, and slid up as long as you held that pressure. That panel emptied into a deep black void, and Wilke hopped in without a care, sliding the panel back after him. Then, with just a trace of Light magic, he illuminated the space.

There were a set of very recent footprints, but aside from that, everything was covered with a thick layer of dust--suspiciously thick, he thought. Most likely, it would help track intruders like him, but for now, he followed whoever had left this most recent trail, keeping his light as low as possible, keeping his steps even and slow, and listening with every ounce of attention he could muster.

At the second cross-ways he found, he heard something down the left path--while the footsteps he saw continued on straight. He extinguished the light instantly and listened.

It was a voice, very faint. "Only three," it said. "That accursed woman, she took the last one for herself, I know it. No time, there's no time..."

Although Wilke held as still as he could, the moment he sensed the man's sensory thread creeping through the walls, he knew he had been spotted. But rather than calling for the guards, the mysterious wind mage only hissed, and fled the other way. A curious thing, yes, but Wilke had no assurance that help wasn't coming, so he followed the footsteps once more.

Chai had given him no instruction on following noises in the dark. This was the time to find the "jackal girl" and burn the paper... or slap her, whichever. Maybe both.

The more he held the paper in his hand, though, the more wrong it felt. Maybe he had enough time to fill it the rest of the way. Wilke paused and pushed just enough power in, then measured it again, then evened out the other energies. Yes, that would do. That would have to do.

Any time now, he told himself. Any time now I can stop sneaking, and start fighting. Then it will all be over and done with.