He watched her back for the second time that day, dagger slack in his hands, blood dripping from his fingertips. He was half-bathed in shadows and breathing heavily, whether from adrenaline or nerves he could not tell. The action had happened in the span of what felt like a second. Before he could react, all the men were down.
Oh.
This time oh meant oh, you’re dangerous. It meant oh, you’re merciless. It meant oh, you helped us.
He wanted to speak something profound, but words were stuck in his throat like ants in an abyss. Instead, he watched her back, her fingers, her bowstring, and the blood beneath her feet. He stared at her with eyes wide open and alert, and watched her leave. Oh.
His breath slowed to a regular beat, and he slid the daggers back into the sheaths in his sleeves. He threw his companion a glance. She was gone now, and her departure signaled something. The atmosphere of danger and peril disappeared, dissipated into an aftermath of cool nothingness with her last footstep. Fii wondered what he had seen here, today. He wondered who he had seen. He knew neither their names, but there was a greater power holding down upon his tongue.
“I’m leaving,” he said, acknowledging his companion’s words. This was not a place to remain for long. This city might not welcome them for much longer, and it would be wise to sidle back into the shadows before another curious pair of unfortunate eyes chanced by.
Without another word, he faded back into the dark, and ran.
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