Even the dark clouds looming overheard couldn't stop the extra bounce in Kieran's step as he entered the burned building. He was excited for the knowledge Whisper had promised, whistling to himself as he bounded over to the stairs.
A sound behind him made him hesitate, however, his good mood immediately forgotten as he heard the door open softly.
Drawing his dagger, he spun around to see Bren trying to quietly close the door behind him.
"What are you doing?" the assassin questioned, returning his dagger to its sheath.
Bren put a finger to his lips to shush his irritated companion. "I'm helping you."
"Go back to the tavern," Kieran commanded. "I don't need your help."
"But what if you do?"
"I refuse to see how you having a headache and freaking out is going to help me."
The half-elf frowned. "Whisper is powerful and you need me. Why won't you let me help you?"
Kieran rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, on edge for the first time all day. "Fine," he admitted after a moment, "but lay low, okay? Let Whisper think you're not here."
The thief nodded in understanding, and motioned for the assassin to continue.
Sighing and shaking his head, Kieran trudged toward the stairs, the spring in his step diminished by the half-elf's insistence that something could go horribly wrong.
Kieran heard Whisper muttering to himself before he saw him, the man seemingly lost in thought.
"Whisper," the assassin announced his presence as he stepped on to the creaking wood of the warehouse's third floor.
The wizard acknowledged Kieran with a slight hand wave. "Where's that half-elf puppy who usually follows you around?" he asked.
"I left him behind," the assassin lied, hoping Bren was lying flat enough on the stairs to be unnoticeable.
Whisper merely smiled weakly. "Good. Now maybe we can talk."
The informant's lack of constant movement spooked the assassin, making him increasingly uncomfortable. "Did you find Connor?" he asked, hoping to get the information and be done with this nerve-wracking meeting.
"We'll get to that," the wizard responded, much to Kieran's annoyance. "I was hoping first you could tell me what really happened to Rodrigo."
"What do you mean?" Kieran replied calmly, disguising his anxiety. "Connor killed him."
"Unlikely," Whisper said, pacing slowly. "The man whose name you gave me is too far away to have killed him."
"Where is he?" Kieran asked eagerly. Too eagerly.
Whisper stopped his steady pacing near the lift, standing near the edge as if challenging the assassin to push him down it. "Unlike you, I have morals," he stated, anger seething in his dark eye. "I'm not going to help you kill an innocent man."
"Ha! Please," Kieran scoffed, "you've helped Rod and I kill so many people, all of them a thousand times more innocent than that monster."
"So you didn't kill Rodrigo, then?"
Kieran swallowed hard, his hand instinctively moving closer to the dagger at his belt.
The assassin's hesitation was all the confirmation Whisper needed. "It's a shame it had to come to this, Kieran," he lamented as he gathered his energies, preparing to cast a spell. "I quite liked you."
"Likewise," Kieran said as he burst into motion, drawing his dagger in one fluid movement and rushing towards the wizard, trying to get close before the burned man was able to finish casting.
Whisper's spell was quicker, however, and a ghostly long thin blade materialized beside the assassin before he could gain much ground, striking at him.
Kieran managed to turn his body in time to avoid the sword's first attack, but it recovered impossibly fast and thrust out again, forcing the assassin to block awkwardly with his left hand. The sword missed its mark, but sunk itself deep into the flesh in the assassin's arm, making him cry out in pain.
The blade retracted quickly and attacked again but Kieran was ready for it, twisting his body so the thrust went harmlessly past him. Following the movement around, the assassin barely had time to swap his dagger into his dominant hand before he was forced to block another attack.
Whisper circled the fight, moving away from the lift and standing underneath the sagging roof, watching intently. "You would have been a powerful ally if you weren't a murderer," he admitted, to which the preoccupied Kieran could only growl in response.
The wizard gathered his energy again, hoping to end the fight with one more spell.
His spell fizzled and his concentration broke, however, as a small knife came flying from the stairs and embedded itself in his shoulder. The informant turned to find the source of the attack, seeing Bren charging at him from the metal stairway.
Swearing at his own naivety for believing the assassin, Whisper removed the blade from his shoulder and flung it aside, letting it slide across the floor harmlessly. Stepping backwards and grabbing at his wound, he barked an order at his summoned sword as the young thief approached.
The sword responded to its Master's call, instantly abandoning its flurry of attacks at the assassin and charging impossibly fast at Bren.
"Bren!" Kieran warned as he saw the spectral enemy flying towards his companion.
Hearing the warning, the half-elf turned to notice the attack too late to stop his forward momentum. The sword jabbed low at his knees and the thief tripped in his attempt to dodge, falling face first onto the hard floor with an echoing thud.
Bren instinctively rolled onto his side in anticipation of another attack, but Kieran was already there to fend it off.
"Get up!" he ordered as he tried to defend the prone half-elf.
Bren got up quickly, wiping blood from his nose and backing away from the assassin's desperate fight. The knife he had carried had fallen to the floor and skidded towards Whisper, who had backed off further into the burnt corner of the room. Whisper's foot was sitting on the weapon, preventing access to it even as he prepared a powerful spell.
"Kieran, are you-" the thief began to ask, noticing the blood trailing down the assassin's hand as he tried to keep his arm close to his body.
"I'm fine," Kieran responded irritably. "Leave this to me."
"But-"
"Go!"
The assassin's tone left no room for debate. Shaking his head to clear his muddled thoughts, Bren turned to face Whisper.
"Whisper, stop this," he tried to reason as he rummaged through his pockets, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. The dagger he had thrown at the wizard was laying precariously near the lift, too far away to risk leaving Whisper alone to retrieve it.
Whisper smiled at the half-elf and released his spell.
For a breathless moment, nothing seemed to happen. Bren looked at Kieran as the spell settled around him, but the assassin didn't notice, preoccupied as he was with fending off the sword's attacks.
Turning back to Whisper, Bren narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?" he demanded.
Whisper's smile grew wider as a scream of agony erupted from the assassin. He doubled over, clutching his abdomen as his legs gave out and he collapsed, his dagger falling from his hand and clattering loudly to the floor.
"Kieran!" Bren cried out as he watched his mentor fall.
The assassin cried out again as the ghostly sword stabbed down at him, sinking downwards deep into the flesh of his left hip. It hesitated briefly as if trying to push its way through the bone before sliding out to attack again.
Before it could attack, however, it's ghostly form melted away, the spell that had anchored it expiring.
Bren turned to Whisper, his stance threatening. "What did you do to him?"
"Just a little spell," the wizard explained calmly. "Why should you care? You know that bastard killed Rodrigo, right?"
"So?"
Whisper eyed the young man critically. "So? He was your father. He took you in and raised you. That man murdered him."
"It wasn't his fault," Bren stipulated, trying to ignore Kieran's groaning behind him.
Whisper scoffed. "That's what he told you?" The wizard laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. "You pathetic creature. It was only his fault."
Gathering his energies to cast again, Whisper continued. "Kieran Walsh always was a murderer. He will always be a murderer."
"Liar!" Clenching his fist in anger, Bren charged at the wizard as if hoping to shoulder him out of the hole in the wall he stood in front of.
Whisper sidestepped him with ease, managing to keep the spell intact.
But the spellcasting wizard wasn't the thief's true target, and Bren smiled as the wizard stepped out of the way, giving him a clear shot at the support pillar in the corner of the room.
The half-elf's shoulder slammed hard into the thin pillar that supporting the wooden roof above them, pushing it out of position. The rafters shuddered from the impact, shifting out of position.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz8h52jTLRC
Bren continued his run, nimbly jumping through where the walls should have been and twisting his body around. He barely managed to grab a handhold at the lip of the damaged wall, the sharp edge of the wood cutting into his hand as he clung to it.
Kieran gritted his teeth through the pain, trying to figure out why it felt like someone had stabbed his gut when he heard Bren's impact with the pillar. Clutching his wounded hip trying to stem the bleeding, he turned to watch the scene unfold, watching in horror the collapsing roof above the pair.
Dust and ash assaulted the assassin as the roof came down above him, obscuring his vision and making him cough violently. The movement sent pains shooting all down his body.
Kieran covered his head as the wood splintered and fell against the weakened floor, part of which gave way under the weight and sent the wooden roof crashing down onto the second floor.
It was over almost as quickly as it happened, the dust settling around a gaping hole in the floor where the wizard and thief had once stood.
Desperation helped Kieran ignore his pain and nausea and he managed to stand, stumbling towards the destruction as quickly as his injured hip would allow him to move. "Bren!"
Soft groaning from the other side of the damaged walls gave away the half-elf's safe position, and Kieran breathed a sigh of relief.
"Is it safe?" the thief asked quietly.
"It is, no thanks to you," the assassin berated him, watching as the young man climbed up through the hole in the wall, both hands bloodied from his dangerous handhold. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking," Bren began, standing up straight and dusting himself off as he surveyed the damage from the collapsed roof, "that you're lucky I followed you."
"You collapsed half of the roof."
Bren looked up, feeling proud of himself. "Yeah, I wasn't sure how that would go, but it turned out okay."
He smiled at the assassin, but his smile turned into a concerned look as he surveyed Kieran's wounds. "Are you okay?"
The adrenaline from the fight wearing off, the pain from Kieran's injuries seemed to seep into his mind. He felt disoriented, leaning against his companion for support as Bren rushed over to help him.
"I'm fine," Kieran answered gruffly, gritting his teeth.
Bren noted grimly the dark blood staining the assassin's clothes. "We need to get you to a healer."
"We need to deal with Whisper first," the assassin responded, pushing off from the half-elf and standing on his own. He cradled his bloodied left arm close to his body and he was shaky, but stable.
"He's probably dead."
"He'd better not be," Kieran warned.
The half-elf straightened and tried to sense the wizard's magical energy, feeling a weak spell being cast in the room below him.
"He's alive," the thief confirmed, relieved, but Kieran was already stumbling towards the stairs, leaning down painfully to retrieve his precious dagger.
"Hey!" Bren ran after him, shocked and mildly resentful of the assassin's constitution. "At least let me help you down the stairs!"
The older man accepted the young thief's help wordlessly and the pair carefully moved down onto the second floor.
Whisper lay still, half buried under the destruction, his breathing ragged. A bloodied piece of wood stuck out of his chest like a flag, rising and falling with each difficult breath he took. His eye was closed, concentrating all his energy on the spell he was casting.
"Where is Connor?" Kieran asked, convincingly menacing despite the agony that wracked him.
The scarred informant opened his eye, meekly meeting the assassin's steel gaze.
"Why?" Whisper asked, and Bren saw that even speaking brought the dying wizard great pain.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡICMMvCG6ol
"Where is Connor?" the assassin repeated, drawing out each word like a threat.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyZKvG2qfP2
Whisper tried to sigh and coughed up blood instead.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡodNBAdDHVF
"I'll find him either way," Kieran informed him. "There's dozens of wizards like you who have a much worse moral compass."406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7RV9Sj2Z4u
Whisper was silent for a moment, weighing his options. "He's in Brosa," he admitted between laboured breaths.
Kieran seemed surprised at the news. "He never left?" He shook his head in confusion, unable to grasp it. "Why didn't he leave?"406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqsK7yv8oC6
Whisper just closed his eye, unable to answer.
The assassin scoffed, limping away in annoyance. "Bren, let's go!"
The thief hung back for a moment, however, watching the assassin's reaction. Why was he so offended his brother hadn't moved somewhere else?406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ34qxprqmbu
"You'll see the truth," Whisper warned the half-elf between wheezes as Kieran left, "hopefully before it's too late."
"What do you mean?"
"Every one around Kieran dies," the informant pointed out, growing weaker with each word. "Do you really think it's not his fault?"
His last words lingered long after the wizard died, leaving Bren with a million questions in his head and no one to answer them.
Connor was hard at work, running over the table's edges with fine sandpaper, finishing it's smooth curves. The feel of the grains brushing against the wood felt cathartic, like he was scrubbing off all of it's imperfections and leaving it a thing of pure beauty. Mrs. Cranston would be so impressed.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNEWFK2mxhX
He blew the dust away and stepped back, admiring his work for a moment in serene peace.
Be careful. He is coming.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzI2orysu88
The words seemed to come from the everywhere at once, as if the air surrounding Connor was speaking the message. The startled carpenter didn't even have time to reach for his axe before the voice vanished like it was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, leaving Connor alone with an uneasy feeling and a faded memory of someone he'd rather forget.406Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡap7ZWXB9sl
