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Antiva was everything she remembered it to be. Color and life bursting at the seams. The harbor a constant rotation of ships coming and going from port. Music with dancing, singing, and laughing to the melody. Children weaving in and out of the crowd with merchants shouting out to drawn buyers to their wares.
It was also crawling with death. The smell of piss and rotting flesh from the leather tanneries assaulted the city. It was difficult to avoid, and not easily forgotten. There were also the Crows, the notorious assassin’s guild. The reason why she was here.
Of course, there had been plenty of contracts taken out on her over the years. She had become rather good at dispatching the pesky birds. Unfortunately, her own head was not currently at stake. No, it was because her damn Crow, Zevran, had a contract for his head.
Eight nights had passed since she was given the information. Four nights she had spent on the roof across form Zevran’s estate. She had managed to find a perfect line of sight to his chambers. The merchant who owned the roof had been paid handsomely for both its use, and her privacy. She, Warden Commander Marhis, was supposedly missing after all.
Tonight, looked to be a repeat of the last four. Various fruits and breads had been placed on a table near the balcony. Large metal cups out and waiting to be filled with endless amounts of wine. He had selected his right-hand man to join him in his chambers. Skin golden brown with flowing raven hair, she could see the attraction.
Though Marhis would have preferred to not watch the following events, one could never be certain of an assassin. Crows weren’t really known for their loyalty after all. Nuncio preformed dutifully for his guild master and was then sent away. Zevran grazed from the table’s offerings, refilling his wine before sauntering to the balcony edge. Leaning against the banister, he looked at ease. Marhis took the opportunity to study her old companion.
Zevran had always been beautiful. Even when she hated him. His pale golden hair had grown long and was now intricately braided down his back. Honey skin with various ink patterns spread from his arms to his face, framing his devious grin. Gods those lips and what they could do. His eyes, looking at her. Oh fuck. He was looking at her.
At some point during her admiration he had spotted her. Damn his looks, damn them to the void. Heart pounding in her ears, she tried not to panic. When did he notice her? How long had she been staring? Hastily ensuring her hood was in place, lest her notice her snow-white hair, she began contemplating her current plan of attack.
Marhis pulled her legs back over the roof’s ledge. Standing, slowly, she directed her attention to another part of the roof. Checking her potions belt, she counted the mana draughts left. One. Damn it. Damn her lack of planning, and damn Zevran for his devious grin. Damn it. Casually she looked back in Zevran’s direction. He was gone.
Panic setting in, she rushed back towards the roofs edge. What if the assassin struck? He could be dead! Fear taking hold she began running towards the ladder she had placed at the back of the building. Let her not be too late. Then she heard him.
“And what have I found here?” he purred, making her freeze. The situation quickly making her feel less the predator, and much more the prey. Giving no indication he had just leapt from a balcony and up a building, he began slowly stalking her way. “Did Ricardo send one of his little birds to watch me?”
The last thing she could do was respond; speaking would only give away her identity. Just because she was there to save him, didn’t mean she was ready to face him yet. Thank the Gods she had worn her hood! If she could get away, he would never have to know it was her. Not making any sudden movements, she quickly retraced her escape route. This roof was well connected to the buildings surrounding it. If she ran due east, she would make it to the canal. At some point she would also need to consume her remaining mana draught in order to give her a boost to cast.
Deciding this was the best plan, she quickly cast Winter’s Grasp. The freeze would hopefully give him pause; he despised the cold. It would also give her a head start. Taking off to her right, she jumped the roof ledge and landed and the neighboring building. “Merda!” he seethed.
Hearing his footsteps behind her she began running faster; taking hungry breaths to feed her burning lungs. Years of fighting had worn away her soft edges to become the Warden Commander. Her body was now a tool to be used in battle, and this was one she wasn’t going to lose. She could out run him. At least that’s what she told herself.
Clothes lines with billowing sheets filled the next rooftop, along with a small shack. If she could lose him in the maze of linen, maybe she could hide in the small wooden shed. Diving and rolling under the first wave, she became tangled in the next line. Ripping the sheet away, Marhis quickly hid behind the far wall of the shack. Trying to keep her breathing quite, she gulped down the last mana draught.
It took only moments for Zevran to find her, releasing a sinister laugh when he did. The cat was close to catching the mouse. She had to move fast. Diving out of his reach, she resumed her path to the canal. Only another four roofs before she would make her leap.
As she landed on the last roof, she began to cast her spell. Transformation magic was a school she excelled in. Magic was will turned to reality, and right now she willed herself to have wings. Approaching the final ledge, she leapt. Feeling her shape transform into a bird of flight, she cawed in delight and relief. Until she was falling.
Hands enclosed around her body and began to drag her down towards the ground. Shock breaking her concentration, she was no longer able to hold the spell. She was now a falling elf, trapped in the arms of Zevran. Stomach in her throat, she screamed and flailed. Bodies crashing into the water below, she continued to fight her captor.
Throwing an elbow to his kidney, Zevran released his hold momentarily. With her mana stores depleted, there was no magic to save her now. Pushing through the water, she swam for the canal embankment. Just as she was lifting her body from the putrid water, she felt a hand wrap around her ankle. Kicking the trapped leg towards her captor, she struggled to free herself. Not relinquishing his grip, he took hold of her potions belt with his other hand and used it to pull himself from the canal.
Both soaked, and flopping around like fish out of water, the chase had come to a close. Zevran had caught her, and there was no escaping his vice hold. Turning her body over, she wasn’t prepared for the hand that wrapped around her wind pipe. There was a quick constriction and then it was gone.
“Amore?” Zevran whispered breathlessly, body going tense.
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Almost reverently, he traced his hand from her cheek to the tip of her pointed ear. The touch so soft and delicate, she resisted leaning into his palm. Silent as his amber eyes drank in her face. “I thought you were dead.”
She was temporarily paralyzed. “Alive, and well I’m afraid,” she laughed nervously.
She didn’t have time to say more before his lips came crashing into hers. Hungry and full of need, he drew the breath from her very lungs. Pulling away too soon she whimpered at the growing distance. It had been so long, too long.
“Amore,” he whispered again. The word sending lightning down her spine and making her toes curl. “You are all wet, what shall I do with you now?”