Elliot Brown
The fat man's snores wafted through the air.
His beard shook across his face, the tufts of white hair.
Here on this eve of the Winter Solstice
creeped a young man full of skill and artifice.
No. Look, that's stupid. Some lady told me that Solstice rhymes with artifice. First of all, I'm not a bard, so I don't know why I'm making some stupid rhyme to you in the first place. Second, it does not rhyme, no matter what sort of goofy accent you put on in order to try to make it fit. I don't even know what artifice means! Which doesn't mean I'm stupid. It is. I'm not. It's just like this. If it's something I ought to have, I have it. If it's something I shouldn't have, then why are we worried about it anyway?
Here's what we need to worry about. The kids. It's tough to be a kid in Myrken, and it's been a real tough year for the lot of them, especially the ones I have some reason to care about. We have to grow up quick. Either we grow up or we die, and despite everything else, this bunch hasn't died yet. Some of them I've had trouble with. Some of them I'm just getting to know. Some of them I'm real close with, but tonight, someone has to look out for them, and if I don't do it, who will?
So that's why I'm here, the last of the first half of my night. Old man Treadwell's toy shop. I thought about taking more, but I've got to be careful. Can't mess too much with the taxman. That's what got Tennant in hot water, and from what I hear, they don't even think he did it. So no, I won't mess much with that, just take what I need, three little things to finish off my hunt. In and gone before he knew it. Just like I was taught.
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The Dagger first, then. For Cat, it was a new pair of shoes. The scamp would need them in what was to come. They were a little larger than need be, just right to grow into. By the time the kid had grown out of them, getting a new pair ought to be no trouble at all. Radeorin would receive a bag full of marbles. None of them were the glass one that he had treasured so badly but quantity, perhaps, would make up for quality? Some were quite nice, really. For Arcana, it was one red rose, obtained through great difficulty and skill in the middle of the winter. Catch would receive a well-made wooden sword and a more professional wooden shield to go along with it. For Zilliah, it was a small mirror with a brass frame, a modest thing but did the fae really deserve much more? Finally, Gloria, no matter how she carried herself, counted as much as the others. She would wake up to find a new bonnet beside her bed.
On the way out of town, the child of his tutor would receive a doll pilfered, much like the toy sword and the marbles, from Treadwell's shop. The ball of energy that rested not far from there would, in the morning, find two rings, one made of glass and the other of gold, delicate things made just for her.
The horse was not pilfered, just borrowed. It'd be returned at some point. They usually were, especially if they were both smart and loving enough to find their way home on their own. This visit to the mill was not about mayhem. This visit to the mill was more educated, down to where the boy Cherny, only recently returned to his 'home,' slept. Was it an armed visit? Yes, but less so upon leaving, for the boy was left a one-handed blade, a small falchion, smaller than the Constables generally used in heated situations. It was used, weathered, but still a fine weapon. The sort of thing an untrained young man could lose a finger playing with. A lovely gift.
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I knocked upon her window close enough to dawn. Niall wasn't the sort of woman you snuck up, not even to leave a gift, especially not to leave something when she was sleeping. Zilliah was dangerous, some of the others, but Niall? Niall was raised to be on her guard at all time, to strike first and ask questions never. The idea of asking questions at all was ridiculous in her world. That was the hardest thing to grasp over the years. For as bad as Myrken was, there were moments of peace, of joy, of calm. You could rest between the darkness. Where she was from? The moment you rested even for a moment was the moment that you died.
So I knew she'd see what the knocking was. I knew she'd open that window, would let me in. One hand had the bottle of wine, the other two glasses, precariously held. It was with the bottle that I had tapped upon the window. "Hey," I offered with a wink and shuffled in, smiling despite myself at her reaction.
Everyone else made sense, every single one of them, even the ones I didn't know well, but Niall? What do you get a girl who has more than she ever thought she would have, who has everything except for that one thing she wants? I can't, you know, I can't get her what she wants, even if I lived forever. I tried that with Nova. It's obvious how that turned out and here the stakes would be so much higher. All I can offer her is what I have, is what I am.
"Here's what we're going to do." My smile doesn't fade. Her scowls I can handle though anything else might throw me a little, might remind me of those years where she smiled, where she bounced and was happy, even if it was all a lie. The glasses in my hands reassured me. The bottle reassured me. This was my best friend in the world and I was here for a reason. What could I offer her? Maybe this. "We're going to drink. This night, every year, you and me, this wine. We're going to drink and toast that we made it through another year. It'll be our tradition." I couldn't give her back her home, but I could do everything I could to give her a new one with mine.