Shades Of The Serpent

It was on nights like these that Rook almost wished he wasn’t a Darkster. A frigid wind was whipping across the roofs and slicing through his layers of clothes. The Dark magic swirling in his chest was just as cold as the wind but infinitely more preferable than Light magic and the warmth it offered.

He crouched at the edge of the roof, adjusting his weight as the guttering creaked beneath him. It wouldn’t do well to fall off. Especially not with all the people below to see him.

The street was filled with lights and sound, the excited chatter of voices reaching his ears. Scents of all kinds wafted up to him - sweet, savoury, baked - all delicious enough to make him hungry. His hand wandered to the pocket containing a ration of food but he stilled himself before it got there. That was for later.

The excitement and celebration was all for a festival of some sort and Rook watched with mild interest as the noise on the street grew in anticipation of something.

Heads turned as something appeared at the far end of the street. The crowd roared in delight. Rook’s interest lasted just long enough for him to recognize that the fancy, horse-drawn float carried half a dozen Lightsters.

He wrinkled his nose and turned away. As if the pompous fools needed to make themselves more popular. The people of Tarland already worshipped them far more than they deserved.

Rook rose to his feet. He wasn’t going to waste any more time on this spectacle. The soles of his boots thumped quietly against the tiles as he padded across the roof. With a small jump he was over the narrow gap and on the next roof. No one looked up as he leapt from building to building, all too raptured with the performance that the Lightsters were putting on.

Without warning, light exploded beside Rook. He shied away and dropped full-length onto the tiles, the impact knocking his breath away. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears as he struggled to get air.

They’d spotted him.

There was nowhere to run.

He was going to fail his mission.

A second bright explosion flashed above his head, then another and another. Rook stayed flattened against the roof with his heart pounding. Slowly, he realised that the explosions were getting further and further away. He took a deep, calming breath then wriggled to the edge of the roof, peering cautiously over.

To his immense relief, he discovered that the explosions were part of the performance, and were moving down the road with the float of Lightsters.

Rook rolled onto his back against the tiles, breathing a sigh of relief. That had been a close call. He stared up at the night sky, noting with some sadness that the stars were dimmer here in the city, where lights flickered on every corner.

A plume of breath billowed out into the cool air above him as he sighed. His head was throbbing from being at the bottom of a slope. Time to get back to his mission.

The rest of the city was quiet and dark, so Rook decided to drop to the streets. The handful of people that passed him didn’t give him a second look, but he was scanning their faces closely from under his soft leather hood.

He kept away from the busier streets, even though he was more likely to find his target there. It wouldn’t do to bump into a Lightster, not now.

The cobbles beneath his feet were much smoother than the slats on the roofs, and much more comfortable through the worn soles of his boots. As he passed under an archway he closed his eyes to welcome the cool touch of the deeper shadows against his magic.

“Hello!”

Rook nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the cheerful voice. He spun around to see a person standing there, looking curiously at him.

They were a young woman, perhaps fifteen years of age, with her red hair pulled back from her face into a low bun. Her Aleian-style form-hugging trousers were typical of a middle-class citizen who was attempting to look wealthier and more up-to-date.

“Not fond of the festival either?” she asked.

“Not fond of conversation.” Rook answered shortly as he turned his back on her.

“Aw, come on, don’t be a spoil-sport!” Her boots clicked against the cobbles as she hurried to catch up with him. “It’s just nice to meet someone who’s not as obsessed with the festival as everyone else in this damned city.”

Rook glanced sideways at her and was met with a beam. She was slightly taller than him, and something about that bothered him. “I’m busy. Go away.”

“Busy with what?” She tipped her head to one side. “Can I help? I’d like to do something helpful today. The parade didn’t want me.”

The parade? The one with the Lightsters showing off their magic? He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to vanish into the shadows and just get away from this city.

“You’re a Lightster,” he said instead.

“Yep, that’s me. Or at least, that’s what they tell me.” The girl shrugged. “I’ve never really had much of a talent in it. I’m Beck, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Rook.” He had no idea why he answered, and regretted it immediately. “And I’m leaving now.” He picked up the pace.

“But we were just getting to know each other!” Beck called after him. Rook didn’t answer, taking a sharp left and ducking into a dark alley. He gathered the shadows beneath himself then leapt upwards, landing lightly on the roof two storeys above.

The Darkster dropped to his belly just in time as Beck peered around the corner to find the alley empty. He watched silently as the young woman produced a small ball of Light between her hands and shone it around. The glow fell on nothing but muck and a sole rat, which scuttled straight back into its hole.

Even from two storeys up, Rook could hear her sigh. Then the Light went out and the Lightster disappeared back to the main streets.

Stars glittered above him. Rook worked his hands in and out of fists as he grit his teeth. This was all time being wasted. Grandmother would be furious if he took too much longer. One hand reached up to absent-mindedly stroke the opposite upper arm, imagining it could feel the raised lines through the thick cloth. After a moment, he realised what he was doing and yanked his hand away. Enough of this day dreaming!

Back on his feet, Rook relaxed his hold on his Dark magic, letting it flood through his limbs.