One man’s treasure is another man’s treasure, well why not ours?

-Slickhander Creed

Fourth day of the Fifth week of Autumn, tenth bell of the morning…

Sylvia felt rays of sun on her face and twitched her whiskers before burrowing deeper under the blanket.

A quiet knock came at the door, then a creak and footsteps as someone entered.

Sylvia couldn’t be bothered by the who right now, the seductive calls of sleep were far more enticing then the smell of…

Sylvia sat up abruptly, still clad in rumpled clothes from the night before. Her blurry eyes made out the figure of a youth, and more importantly the bowl he was holding.

The heavenly smell of deep fried ice cream swimming in a pool of malted milk overpowered Sylvia’s will to sleep as it filled her twitching nose, she unconsciously licked her lips.

The youth, Justin smiled as he watched Sylvia positively attack and devour the delectable morsel he had delivered,

He knew it was her favorite treat and prepared it the morning after each successful ‘liberation hunt’.

It was a small thank you that all the children of the orphanage saved up a few coppers for through odd jobs each week.

When Sylvia first laid eyes on him years ago Justin had been a scrawny runt, little more than skin and bones with matted brown hair and large sunken eyes devoid of hope.

A state he had thankfully recovered from as regular feeding and exercise along with the onset of puberty fleshed out his body.

Purpose had filled his black eyes as surely as food his frame.

While he was still small for his fifteen years, something that was unlikely to change based on his build, he now wielded a whipcord strength from long hours of work and training alike, few could truly estimate the power held within his narrow build.

A fact he had used to his advantage on more than one occasion.

Seeing that Sylvia was nearing the end of her meal Justin sat on the floor in front of the couch and began reporting, another routine, albeit a daily one.

“We have a few leads for next week's stroll but are sussing out if they are real or not. As well as what kind of protection they have in place, I’ll update you as we find out more but you have an appointment at the eighth bell this evening down at the Talking Tankard."

"Local wise the orphanage is running well, there have been a few attempts to move into our turf but you sure picked a good spot, the tensions between the factions and the recent power struggle in the Grakoan mafia have them all overlooking us for now."

"The Grakoans especially are too lazy to interfere considering the soup kitchens help a good number of their beggar division, and the other factions are too scared to make a move on the edge of their turf with how violent and aggressive they have been acting recently."

Plus no one wants to wants to piss off that noble person funding us without knowing who it is, and if they can do so safely.”

Sylvia bared her teeth in a wild grin, pure genius that deception had been.

In truth there was no noble behind them, but a few well placed rumors with the help of her mum was enough to engender enough doubt to inspire caution in smaller groups.

And that’s all they really needed in the end, enough space and peace to do some good.

“Mick, Sue and Heathrow go for their apprentice tests tomorrow, your mum says we’ll have enough for them and the twenty other new graduates to get placed in good crafts, bout time those brats got kicked out.” Justin shamelessly continued, completely ignoring how he was older than they yet still hung around.

Sylvia was struck by the blatant hypocrisy of his statement and gave him a level stare, which was masterfully deflected by Justin's unabashed grin.

Sylvia sniffed and turned her attention back to the bowl, licking it clean before handing it back and letting out a satisfied burp

Justin had attached himself to her years ago, vowing to be the butler to the ‘Black Lightning Princess’ as the orphans were wont to call her.

The name made her skin crawl in embarrassment, but she tolerated it upon seeing the joy and hope in the children's eyes as they did so.

They had so little to believe in, she couldn’t take away what they had.

Sylvia had however objected a while back, when she found a little shrine dedicated to her with Justin leading a dubious ceremony with some of the other older children.

She gave them a good clobbering and an earful on respecting the twelve divines.

That had thankfully been the last of that, Sylvia had no wish for being the object of a cultist worship. Thankfully they seemed to have grown out of it, a phase no doubt, though she could not comprehend it.

She did however make sure they had a rotating minister come in once a week for an hour of religious education for the children.

Their eyes tended to glaze over at the sermons but if nothing else it broadened their horizons and helped them to learn how to read and write, some of the children were even planning to join the various faiths in the future as apprentice clergy.

Sylvia finished listening to Justin’s report, all in all things were going well, life was good and as it should be.

Neatening up her appearance from the disheveled state it was in after her sleep, and getting a few good stretches in, Sylvia prepared to face the days tasks.

Now more awake and energized she followed Justin out her office and began her day.

……………………………………..

Same day and time, a small inn near the eastern gate….

Braexia awoke in a cold sweat and let out a groan while holding her throbbing head.

Her red hair danced crazily, agitated by her distress, searching for enemies and slicing a fly in two as it wandered close.

Braexia gently stroked it and sung softly until it calmed down and hung smooth and straight once more.

Then she rose, and casting off her sweat stained shift, washed herself down before she dried herself and changed into fresh clothes.

Braexia moved to the window, and leaning on the windowsill, sightlessly gazed down into the alleyway at a suk scavenging food from some knocked over refuse bins.

Braexia allowed the memories instigated by her dreams to wash over her, it was the only way she could find peace, at least for awhile.

…………..

Some Years ago, outer borders regions of Darish, Sping...

Braexia was five years old, and it was her birthday.

She had gone out into the meadow that lay close to her little woodcutting village to pick flowers and braid a crown, something her wonderful elder brother had praised her about last year.

She was good at making the flower crowns, and this year she would make the bestest, most wonderful one ever.

Braexia sat in the field of blooming flowers, putting the final touches and weaving a summers blush here and there, the deep red flower contrasted magnificently with small white maidens hands flowers that served as the base.

Braexia nodded to herself seriously, this crown was perfect, none would have such magnificence as she, her brother would no doubt exclaim over it’s loveliness and all the other girls would be jealous.

Especially that Rosaline, she didn’t like the way she looked at her brother, or how she tried to get his attention.

Braexia placed the crown on her head, tightening it carefully with a slipknot so it sat securely without crushing any of the floral adornments.

Looping the end of the stem round the knot several times she fastened it.

Braexia spent a few moments more sitting in the bright and peaceful meadow, enjoying the caress of the sun on her skin, the early season sun felt wonderful after the long cold months just past.

She waited for more than just the sun though, despite how he tried to hide it from her, Braexia had found out that her brother Simon was fetching a special treat for her birthday.

Knowing it was Braexia’s favorite, he had gone to trade for a full comb of honey from old Billy the beekeeper who lived alone in the northern woods.

So she had come to the meadow late in the morning and entertained herself until the sun had passed its zenith.

Reasoning that enough time had passed Braexia rose and made her way back, practicing a surprised facial look so her awesome brother wouldn't be disappointed when he handed over her present.

Braexia quickly reached the small windy road that ran through the forest and lead to her small village, and began to skip along it as she traveled home.

As she made her way village ‘wards Braexia licked her lips as she imagined savoring the rich mellow honey, and had to gulp back the saliva that threatened to overflow. It was going to be so yummy.

Braexia’s daydreaming was interrupted by a clip-clopping coming from behind, entering her ears and sparking her curiosity.

Turning around and moving off the road she watched shyly from behind a tree as around the bend came horses and men, in front of a large and beautiful carriage.

The horses they rode weren't like Henry, the solid old brown horse her neighbor's used for ploughing, instead they were slim and sleek, full of vim and vigor, no shaggy hair or stout bellies in sight!

The leading figures rode horses black as midnight, while the carriage was drawn by two white steeds. The contrast made them all the more striking to the impressionable young Braexia.

Braexia watched with shining eyes as the wondrous spectacle passed her by.

The handsome men in their shiny armor and gallant bearing was a treat for a little village girl who had never traveled nor seen much grandeur.

'Lots of good stuff happening this birthday' little Braexia thought as she grinned at the spectacle.

The carriage bore a bunch of funny pictures on the side, the same ones she saw on the back of the few copper coins her brother showed her, and the vehicle had plenty of shiny ornaments and decorations all over it that gleamed and strands of filtered sunlight hit them through the tree’s foliage.

As the carriage approached and passed her Braexia overheard a brief conversation coming from the open window.

"Really Thomas, I know it's customary for the crown prince to tour the country when he turns fourteen, but must we visit every blasted town? The food is pig swill and accommodations are simply horrendous!" an impetuous voice complained.

"Patience my prince, we should be nearing the next town and we can take a brief break there and enjoy some refreshments, now what do you say to..."

The carriage moved too far away for Braexia to overhear the conversation any longer, but she didn’t mind, her thoughts and eyes lingered on the beautiful and shiny group until they rounded a bend and moved out of sight.

Only once they had done so was the spell broken and Braexia exited the treeline and started following them, moving homewards once more.

Braexia kept on the path, skipping and dancing around tufts of flowers and stones as she made her way back, it only took a bell's worth of time either way and it was not long before she rounded the final bend, her village coming into sight.

Braexia stopped, Gop the village guard was not at his post, and there was a lot of smoke rising, were they having a big bonfire party without her?

It must be for those fancy men who passed her on the road, Gop must be at the party, and she, she was missing out.

Braexia rationalised the strangeness and hastened her footsteps, not wanting to miss out on the merriment, her birthday was going to be the best one ever!

But where was the singing and music? Braexia wondered as she reached the gate.

A strong smell reached her small nose, which crinkled in revulsion.

A strong smell, like a rusty plow but somehow worse overlaid other ones even worse.

Braexia’s feet slowed as she saw Gob sitting bent over against a house.

Did some long-drop overflow? Why does it smell so bad? And did Gob have too much fire water again and fall asleep?

Braexia tilted her head to the side in puzzlement, trying to make sense of the situation.

She still couldn't hear any music, only the sound of a bonfire somewhere.

Braexia walked up to Gop and shook him, trying to wake him up and ask what was going on.

Gop fell over, still not waking.

He was cold, and her hands were red.

A panic rose in Braexia's chest.

She fled from good, kind Gop's cooling corpse.

Racing between huts, barely registering their fiery state Braexia reached her house at the village centre.

Her parents lay face down in the dirt, motionless, with great red gashes on their backs. Many others lay strewn about, falling to blows as they had fled, but Braexia had no eyes for them.

Before Braexia lay her brother, clothes ragged, bruised and torn flesh showing all over his body .

Braexia knelt before her brother and hugged him, he was so cold, how could he be happy being so cold? She hugged him tight to try and warm him.

The last winter Simon had shared his blanket with her, insisting he did not feel the cold as much.

But Braexia still caught him shivering sometimes when he didn’t know she was watching.

Braexia wept.

The crown she had so carefully constructed fell from her head to her brother’s.

Suddenly she felt a slight warmth, fading quickly, and she knew it was her brother, but the tiny spark was fading.

Braexia clung to it, pleading for him not to leave her, yet it still slowly flowed away like sand running through her fingers.

Braexia screamed and pulled with something deep inside her.

She felt her energy quickly draining, but something flowed towards her.

Braexia opened her bleary eyes, and witnessed her brothers blood flowing from his wounds, crawling through the air and seeping into her long hair, dyeing it a bright fresh red.

Strands of hair then wove themselves together and gently wiped tears from her cheeks.

Braexia gently laid her brothers corpse down, then stroked her hair, hiccuping out a lullaby her brother would sing to her every night as their parents would fight in the other room.

She felt her brothers presence with her now, he would not leave her now.

Footsteps sounded behind her, causing her to quieten and turn around.

There stood a man in a heavy black cloak watching her.

He was large in stature and had a neatly trimmed black beard flecked throughout with grey.

When he threw back his hood it revealed an angular face, it's harsh lines overshadowed by his deep deep emerald eyes that swirled with power untold.

Braexia’s hair lifted itself and waved threateningly at the man in various spiked forms.

"Interesting." He murmured.

A silence sprung between them as the standoff continued, until the man finally broke the quiet.

"Do you know what happened here little girl?"

Braexia shook her head, her throat too sore from screaming and crying to speak.

"You wield a powerful magic young one." said the man as he gestured to her twisting hair.

Braexia saw strange lines and symbols dimly glowing on his hand he did so.

"If you follow me I can teach you a great deal more. Come, follow me, I Nocturnus Ullymar will care for you henceforth, and in time I will allow you to hunt the ones responsible for this crime."

A fire lit within Braexia then, a purpose, a hatred and desire that would push and drive her through the coming hellish years, even as it drove her still.

She bent back down and closed her brothers eyes then placed his hands on his chest, one opened as she did so and revealed a sad looking piece of sticky honeycomb.

Braexia crammed it into her mouth as fresh tears flooded her eyes.

It was sweet, so very very sweet.

She rose and followed the departing figure of her new master. Leaving footsteps painted in blood behind her.

………………

Braexia sighed as she leaned against the window pane of her room.

The memories came occasionally, flooding out in a tidal wave of crippling emotion and flattening her, requiring time and effort to pack them back up and store them away once more.

Yet for all the pain they brought she relished them, for with each wave she was honed and renewed, her direction and conviction confirmed.

Braexia gazed up to the magnificent castle on the hill.

"I'm coming for all of you, just you wait, soon I'll dance over your cold corpses."

Braexia closed her shutters, the only witness to her declarative vow some uncaring suks.