The note was pinned to the cork-board outside of John Mardin's butcher shop. It fluttered on the breeze that swept down the busy street, amid sale fliers, job requests, and wanted posters. On a hectic intersection in Radasanth, such papers could be seen by hundreds. This particular letter, however, was different. It was intended for only one pair of eyes.
Josette Hawkes felt the blood freeze in her veins. A sound that might have been a gasp, or might have been a whimper, escaped her as she read the fancy script one more time. The mere fact that the note was written to her, and displayed so publicly, horrified her. It horrified her nearly as badly as the threat itself. A lifetime ago, a demand from Dominik, one of the city's most notorious loan sharks, would have petrified her. Now, after years of traveling and training on her own, he meant nothing to her. Neither did her father, or the debt that he owed. Her reputation, her freedom - that was what she truly cared about. It was all she had. And if Dominik knew the most damning of her many secrets, he could surely have her killed. Or worse, imprisoned.J.H.
Your father's debt is due. Settle, or we tell what we know.
D.
Though her hands still trembled, the raven-haired knight schooled her expression back into the rigid, unyielding mask of strength and stone. She tore the paper from the board, shoving it deep into the pocket of her breeches as she paced, on a hunch, to the board down the street. A similar note was pinned there as well. The next hour was spent stalking the city, yanking papers from each board she found. The job did nothing to soothe her, but it did give her time to think.
A barked shout from a nearby storefront tore her from those troubled thoughts. The man's rings glimmered beneath the bright sun as he jabbed a finger toward the crowd, swollen to capacity with the mid-day rush. An initial glance in the direction revealed nothing, so Josette asked, "What did the thief look like?"
Perhaps the owner of the Treasure Trove believed her to be a member of the City Guard, based on the iron armor she wore. Or, perhaps he was just desperate enough for the return of his goods that he would confide in anyone. But after only a brief look at her, he adjusted his gaudy robes, and said, "Female, brown hair. Stole something of immense value, both monetary, and sentimental. I must have it back!"
A performance better suited for the stage. Regardless, Josette nodded, and merged into the sea of people. Corone, the great melting pot of Althanas, sported inhabitants of all walks of life. There were men, women, and those whose gender was impossible to determine. Of those who were clearly female, hair colors were even more diverse: blonde, brown, red, black. A woman with no hair at all turned her long, scaled, reptilian face to Josette and snarled upon feeling her gaze. The knight offered no apology, but turned to continue her search elsewhere.
Even as she moved into a brisk trot, continuing to scan for the brunette, she wondered why she took action at all. She was not a member of the Guard, nor did she owe Radasanth anything. Had she not decided to visit a master swordsmith about her mysterious Ma blade, she likely never would have returned. The place already haunted her dreams, and visiting in her slumber was more than she cared for. The mere fact that she was wandering among its tall buildings again, for the first time in nearly five years, was enough to turn the knot in her gut. So why, then, did she bolt into a sprint when she spotted a fleeing female? The thief's brunette braid snapped behind her like a whip as she barreled from the Treasure Trove, the frantic movements all the confirmation that the knight needed. Whereas her target still slowed to move around people, unshakeable manners a remnant of some polite upbringing, Josette simply shoved through the crowd. Elbows and shoulders forged a path for her, and despite the barked cries of pain and protest, she did not pause to excuse herself.
Was the same force that slowed the thief, and required her to utter small apologies as she bumped into onlookers, present deep within Josette? An unwavering force that determined right and wrong, and made it difficult to stray from the path? The brunette had difficulty being impolite, while Josette had difficulty ignoring a crime in progress. Or, at least, that was the best rationale that she could come up with as she closed the distance. And as the thief ducked into an alleyway, a ripple of satisfaction bloomed outward beneath Josette's iron breastplate. Though she wished every day to forget the dirty streets of Radasanth, she recalled enough to recognize the dead-end.
Thirty feet of trash-littered stone separated the two women when Josette finally entered the alley. The brunette had her back turned, palms pressed to the opposite wall as if to will it out of existence. The metallic hiss of Josette freeing her sword finally drew her attention.
As the older girl's blue eyes found the younger's green ones, she paused, blade half-drawn. A child. The figure who stood before her, the thief, was merely a child. Fourteen or fifteen years, if Josette had to guess. The same age that she had been, when she had last seen Radasanth.
There was something in the girl's face, in the way that she carried herself, that suggested she had seen hard times. Josette, most likely, had exhibited similar tell-tale features after the death of her father. But the pure terror, as raw and deep as anything that Josette had ever seen, could not be hidden from those emerald eyes. Slowly, deliberately, the golden sword was returned to its sheath. And though Josette's voice was gruff as she issued her demand, the weapon was not drawn again.
"Return the items that you stole immediately."
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